Always Keep Fighting
by TheEntireHistoryOfYou
Summary: (Supernatural reader insert!) When you start noticing strange things happening in your small town, you decide to investigate. Little did you know, Sam and Dean have arrived in your town for the very same reason. After a tragic accident pulls you together, you're forced to hit the road with two men you've never met.
1. Chapter 1: Mashed Potato Art

**Chapter one: Mashed Potato Art**

 _Reader Pov_

You live in a small town. Small enough to notice when someone new arrives. Small enough to know when something isn't right.

You lay back in your bed with a thud, a deep breath escaping your lungs. Confusion and pain swirl through your mind as you try to sleep. Sure, it's midday on a saturday, but all you want to do is take a break from the way you feel. Your best friend, Vicky, had done something horrible the night before. Inexcusable.

 _You sat in a diner next to Vicky, who was irritated; very unlike her. She wasn't eating either, and she had ordered a lobster roll. You knew it was her favorite._

" _Is everything okay, Vicky?" You had asked, raising a spoon of mashed potatoes to your mouth._

 _For a minute, Vicky looked as if she didn't know where she was. Suddenly, she turned to you and shoved a bowl into your lap._

" _Vicky!?" You shout, frozen. The mashed potatoes sink into your pants. Vicky says nothing, but stands with a smirk and starts to walk toward the exit._

 _You wipe the potatoes from your pants and run after her. You hope no one noticed the stain that makes you look like you peed yourself._

 _Vicky throws the door open, making the alarm go off. It was an emergency exit. You chase after her, following her into the parking lot._

" _Vicky! Wait!" You shout. She stops in her tracks, slowly turning around, almost amused that you followed her. "What is your problem?"_

 _Vicky laughs and shakes her head. "Vicky never liked you, sweetie."_

 _You freeze. Why had Vicky spoken in third person?_

 _She slowly walks toward you. "You know, if I had taken you, Vicky wouldn't think twice about following me. But you... You have to go and try to fix things."_

" _Vicky, you're not making sense," you stutter._

 _Vicky smirks. "You'll stay away from me if you really care about her."_

 _Before you can ask what the heck she means, she is getting into her car and driving away, leaving you in the parking lot without a ride home._

You don't know what to think. Vicky had embarrassed you, hurt you, and most of all, scared you. You were worried about her, but you couldn't confront her. It hurt too much.

You sit up in bed and look out the window of your house. Vicky's house is across the street. You always wondered why you didn't just share a house and the rent, but Vicky did like her privacy. The situation helped you to appreciate living alone.

Vicky's car was in the driveway and you didn't see movement inside. You had been checking on her to see if she would go somewhere, but nothing had happened, and you were starting you worry; more than you already were.

You hear a noise from outside that sounds like an old, very loud, muffler. You move closer to the window to see what it is. An old black car speeds by, and you roll your eyes. Drifters. This town seemed to be a magnet for them.

You lay down in your bed, close your eyes, and find yourself able to fall asleep.

 _Dean pov_

"Stop here," Sam says, pointing to a diner on the right.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say." They had never gone to a diner to talk to locals, but maybe Sam was right. They wanted to get the feel for the town.

Dean took his keys out of the ignition and sat back in his seat. "Why are we even here, Sammy?"

Sam, who had his hand on the handle, sighed and sat back too. "You _know_ why, Dean. We're here to see if our source is good."

Dean shook his head. "I still don't know why we have to look into this. It's probably just a demon. Are we just going to shut up and do his dirty work?"

"Dean, you know that's not why," Sam huffs. "If this turns out to be a _real_ case, then we know that our source is reliable."

Dean wanted to protest, but Sam was right. If this demon they had captured was reliable, then they could use him to their advantage. "I hate demons," Dean finally said, getting out of the car. Sam chuckled and followed him into the diner.

The diner was like the thousand other ones that he and Sam frequented. Small, smelling of stale french fries and grease. Dean had come to love it.

He and Sam sat at the bar, ordered, and took a look around. There were a lot of people here for such a small town. Sam was right, this would be the place to get information.

Sam tapped Dean's shoulder and pointed to a man sitting alone in a booth. Dean nodded, and Sam left to go talk to him. Dean smirked. Of course Sam left him to flirt with the waitress.

"Anything else you need?" She asked, wiping her hands on a towel.

Dean flashed a smile. "Yeah, actually. I don't look it, but i'm actually a fed."

The waitress looked surprised. "You definitely don't look it." She paused. "How can I be of help?"

"Well, I don't mean to alarm you, but my partner and I are looking into a case, and we think we might have tracked the suspect here."

She bit her lip. "I don't know how I could help you with that, sir..."

Dean set down his fork. "I guess, if you notice something out of the ordinary, just give me a call." He slid his number across the table and smiled again. "Anything out of the ordinary."

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Sam.

"You ready to go?"

Dean nodded, turning back to waitress. "Thank you." He set a twenty dollar bill on the table and followed Sam out the door.

"Got anything?" Sam asked as they got in the car.

"Jack," Dean responded, starting Baby up. "You?"

"Turns out, that guy was the deputy," Sam explained. "He says that someone killed a dog last week, but they have kept it under wraps so far, and that's the only strange thing that has happened in the past three months."

Dean smiled. "Looks like we'll have to stake it out and see if something else comes up." He cranked up the music. "Motel it is!"


	2. Chapter 2: Easter Eggs

**Chapter Two: Easter Eggs**

 _Sam pov_

"I'm agent Martin, and this is my partner, agent Robinson. We're here about the murder last night."

The sheriff nodded. "My deputy told me about you. Come on in."

Dean smiled and walked into the house, and Sam followed right behind, tucking his badge away. The sheriff led them to the bodies in the kitchen.

"Stuff like, this... It just doesn't happen in a town like this," the sheriff mumbled.

Sam crouched down to take a closer look. A woman was sprawled on the floor, covered in blood, almost as if her heart was ripped out. Adjacent to her was a man, a knife sticking out of his chest. It looked like he had attacked her and killed himself, all in a very short amount of time.

Sam leaned a little closer and wiped his finger across the floor. Sure enough, it was sulfur. It was a demon after all.

"Mark and Christa were happily married," the deputy explained, entering the room. "They were expecting a baby."

Sam stood and showed Dean his finger.

"Who found them?" Dean asked. Sam studied the sheriff's face. He looked frightened. This was way out of their league.

"Vicky," the sheriff said. "She lives across the street. She called us, and when we got here, they were dead, but the bodies were still warm." He frowned. "Strange, isn't it? If we came a _little_ sooner..."

Dean clapped the sheriff on the back. "Thanks sheriff. Deputy. Contact us if you find anything else." He was out of there in a hurry. Sam smiled weakly and chased after Dean.

Dean was already at the car when Sam came out. "What's the rush?" Sam called, rushing after him.

Dean gave Sam a look. "Get in the car."

Sam felt like a child as he hopped in the car. Why can't Dean just explain what he is thinking? Dean stepped on the gas as soon as Sam got in.

"Let's go talk to Vicky," Dean stated, speeding down the road.

"Dean!" Sam cried. "Why are you acting like this?"

"You know that feeling that you left the sink on at home?" Dean suggested. "I feel like our demon isn't going to wait much longer."

Sam threw his hands in the air. "And why do you think that?"

Dean slowed down as they approached Vicky's house. "Because, Sammy, Vicky found the bodies still warm. It's like they were planted there for her to find. Planted for us to find. Someone wants us to be here."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decide what seemed right, but before he could, Dean was getting out of the car. _He we go again_...

 _Dean pov_

Dean knocked on the door and straightened his tie. Sam came up beside him, and Dean knew that he was annoyed. Dean just wanted to get this over with.

A girl - well, she was around their age, but Dean still saw her as a girl - with short black hair opened the door. "Can I help you?"

Dean plastered on a smile. "Agent Martin. Are you Vicky?"

Vicky smiled. "The one and only. What can I do for you?"

"This is my partner, agent Robinson. We're investigating the murder last night."

She pursed her lips. "Come in."

Dean entered, Sam on his heels, and followed Vicky to the next room.

"I found the bodies last night," she said quietly. "I was there when... well... I saw Mark gasping... and then he was gone. I couldn't do anything." She crossed her arms and looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Vicky," Sam whispered.

Dean nodded. "Why were you there?" He was getting impatient. If this were a bigger city, neighbors wouldn't care about people who died. Small towns were hard to deal with.

Vicky swallowed hard. "I went for a walk, I heard a noise, and I..."

Sam looked expectantly at Dean, but Dean tried to ignore him. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. "Thank you for the help, Vicky," Dean spat. He smiled, and turned to the door.

Sam shook Vicky's hand and rushed after Dean again. "Hey! Hey!" Sam called. Dean was lost in his head, trying to work out this case. Who was the demon? Who was the rotten egg? Dean opened the car door and jumped in.

"Hurry up!" Dean shouted. Sam sighed, running his fingers through his hair before getting in.

Dean gripped the steering wheel. "We have work to do."

 _Sam pov_

"Seriously, Dean, why are you so stressed out?" Sam asked, flopping into the bed.

He heard Dean sigh. "Have you ever _met_ a demon? They come in flocks. The one we have is pretty powerful, not to mention Crowley's right hand man. They'll find a way to break into the bunker and-"

Sam sat up, his hair sweeping into his face. "Enough already. I want to get back too, but we don't have to rush."

Dean slowly opened his eyes, which were pinched shut. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Dean returned the look. But then, Dean's eyes widened. "What's that in your hair?" He demanded.

Sam pulled a strand into his face to examine it. It reeked of sulfur.

Dean jumped up. "Is it?"

Sam was surprised. "How did it get in my hair?"

Dean was putting the pieces together. "You ran your fingers through your hair when we got in the car... after you shaked-"

"-Vicky's hand!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean flashed a satisfied smile. "Looks like we have a demon to gank."


	3. Chapter 3: The Life You Used to Know

**Chapter Three: The Life You Used to Know**

 _Reader pov_

You turn off the television and set the remote on the table. A weird feeling tugs at your gut. Fear? Loneliness? You're worried about Vicky, but you'd rather not think about it.

Your bed welcomes you, and you fall into it, curling into a ball. You inhale, and smell a flower scent; a smell that helps you descend into a deep sleep. Deep enough to feel comfort. But not deep enough to block out the sound of a muffler drawing nearer.

Your eyes snap open. The drifters again? After listening for a minute, you crawl from the warmth of your covers to the window and push the shades aside.

The old, black car comes into view. You try to convince yourself that they are leaving town, but they are driving - in the night no less - with their headlights off. They're either broken, or the people in the car are trying to stay hidden. Whatever the case, the muffler isn't helping. You heard them coming.

You keep watching to see where they head, but they start to slow down. They come to a stop in front of Vicky's house. You hold your breath. They - two men, but too dark to tell what they looked like - stepped out of the car and walked to the trunk.

Your mind is spinning. Kidnappers? Burglars? Why Vicky's house?

The shorter one pulls out a jug and a pistol, while the taller one grabs a knife. You've had it. This isn't looking good. You had heard about the murder the other day, and _despite_ Vicky's actions lately, you don't want her to die. She was your best friend.

You dash to the phone, but when you turn back, they're gone. Calling the police won't help; you have to do something before it's too late. You throw on your jeans and a sweatshirt, running out the door.

Realizing that you have nothing to defend yourself, you still dial the police, just in case they try to escape later.

"Hey sheriff!" You say through the phone.

He sounds tired. "Y/N? What is it?"

"Someone is breaking into Vicky's house. I think it's the murder from the other day..." You suddenly realize what you're getting into. You're scared.

You hear the sheriff spill something. "Oh lord... Y/N, I'm coming. Stay safe!"

"Sure thing, Sheriff," you say, hanging up. You can only hope that you'll be safe.

Suddenly you're on the porch of Vicky's house. Why are you there? You want to run. You hear a smash inside and close your eyes. Vicky needs your help.

The door had been picked, so you are able to slide inside easily. You follow the trail of dirty footprints, smashed picture frames, and knocked over tables. A scream comes from downstairs. Vicky.

You rush to the door of the basement and freeze in your tracks. You can't walk in there, defenseless. They might be ready. You dash to the kitchen, grab a knife, and slowly descend into the basement, praying that the sheriff comes soon.

"Stay right there!" a voice shouts. You freeze for a minute, until you realize they were talking to Vicky. You keep going.

"Holy water!" Another shouts. You get to the bottom of the stairs and peek around the corner. Vicky was in the middle of the room, the two men walking around her. You realize they are about your age. They don't look like murderers either.

The shorter one tosses the jug to the taller one, who splashes some water on Vicky. She screams as it steams up and burns her. You clutch the knife. That isn't water. Water doesn't burn.

The short one points his gun at Vicky while the tall one gets ready to use his knife. Suddenly, Vicky throws her hand out, and the short one flies backward into the wall. He slams against it and looks like he is stuck there. The tall one lunges forward, but Vicky hisses at him.

"Get closer and he's dead."

He stops in place, but is ready to throw the knife. You don't know what to think. How did Vicky do that? Who are these guys?

Despite being stuck to the wall, the short one manages to raise his hand and fire the gun. Vicky and the tall guy duck as the bullet whizzes by. Then, the tall one dumps the rest of the "water" on Vicky. She screams and withers in her place.

"Exorcise her!" The short one yelled from his place on the ground where he had fallen.

The tall one lowered his knife and began to chant something harshly. Vicky panics, letting the short one free, and quickly opens her mouth so that and thick, black smoke began to shoot out.

The tall one gasps and the short one squirms back. You drop to the ground, eyes locked on Vicky. What the heck is happening?

Suddenly, the tall one was chanting it backwards, even harsher and quicker than before. Vicky's eyes widen, and she begins to suck the smoke back in.

The short one looks pleased. You couldn't stand it. You knew inside you, somewhere, that Vicky was no longer Vicky, but you weren't going to let them hurt her. You were scared though, and you couldn't move from your spot.

The short one raised his gun. You inhale sharply and jump out from your hiding spot.

But as you yell, "Don't shoot!" he pulls the trigger, and the bullet impales itself in her gut.

Both men turn and swiftly look at you, shocked, as Vicky crumples to the ground. You rush toward her, but the short one aims the gun at you.

"Get back," he snaps. "That isn't your friend anymore."

"You're going to shoot me?" you shout. You suddenly wish you had shut up.

The short one is searching for what to say. They both look like they never expected to be caught.

You start in again. "The sheriff is coming. I'd think you'd want to avoid racking up the body count."

They exchange a glance and look back to you, while you hold the knife tighter. The tall one speaks this time. "You're not going to believe us, but Vicky is a demon, and she murdered your neighbors Mark and Christa."

Your eyes widen. First they threaten to shoot you, and then they lie to you? "Like hell she's a demon."

The short one rolls his eyes. "That literally _never_ works Sam!"

The tall one, Sam, shouts back, "You want me to lie?"

"At least they _believe_ the lie!"

Vicky coughs. "Y/N? Is that you?"

"Vicky!" You shout. "Are you okay?"

She coughs again, but this time, blood comes up. "They hurt me..."

"Shut up!" both guys yell at the same time.

Vicky smirks and opens her mouth wide. She closes it, confused. "Why can't..."

The short one laughs. "Devil's trap bullets, you filthy beast. No smoking out."

You look to him, and to Sam, and to Vicky. " _What_ is going on?!"

Sam purses his lips. "I _told_ you!"

"So Vicky is a demon?" You shout. "And water burns her? And smoke comes out of her mouth? And she murders people?"

"It's holy water," Sam explains, more calmly. "It only burns demons."

Suddenly, the short one splashes you with it. You scream, but nothing happens. You watch him spill it on Vicky as he stands up, and Vicky screams, her skin turning red.

"How..." you start.

"She can't move because she's caught in a devil's trap that we carved into our bullets," the short one says. "And don't tell me Vicky has always spewed smoke. You know that's new."

"Hasn't she been acting weird lately?" Sam adds, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. "When demons possess people, they take over. Whoever has been in there is not Vicky."

It suddenly comes together. What she had done the other day...

You let the words roll of your tongue. "Vicky is a demon."

Both men let out a huge breath, but Sam corrects, "Vicky is possessed by a demon."

You swallow hard. "What does that mean we have to do?"

"We have to rid of it," the short guy says.

"So," you summarize, "we have to kill her."

Sam steps closer to you, and you take a step back, pointing the knife at him. He holds up his hands as if to tell me he means no harm. "Come here," he beckons, walking over to Vicky, who is laying perfectly still on the ground.

You keep the knife in your right hand, getting closer to Vicky. The closer you get, the more it smells like rotten eggs.

Sam crouched next to her, and you come up beside him. He does his best to keep his distance and not set you off, which you appreciate.

Sam looks at Vicky for a long time, gathering the words. Then, he looks at you. You get on your knees beside him without returning the glance.

"This isn't your friend," he tells you. "We can let her go, but she is just going to run off and continue killing. She might even come after you."

Vicky twisted on the ground so that she was facing you. She looked helpless; nothing like Sam described.

You consider what he says before meeting his gaze. "Why can't you... exorcise her like you did before?" You barely got the words out as your voice began to waver.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the short guy walk over to the stairs.

Sam looks at the ground. "The devil's trap bullet is keeping the demon inside her. There is only one way to kill this demon. I'm sorry."

You place the knife in your lap and close your eyes. Just a moment before, you didn't believe in monsters and you certainly didn't trust this guy. Now you were considering letting him kill you friend. A tear slipped of your cheek.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched, opening your eyes. Sam had extended his knife to you. Somehow you knew that you had to kill Vicky, and Sam was right, he didn't deserve to do it. She would want it to be you.

As you turned to take the knife from Sam, Vicky suddenly sprang to life. She throws herself toward you and grabs the kitchen knife from your lap.

Sam quickly lunges forward to try and get it, but she slashes at his forearm and he jumps back, yelling.

He got back up to try again, but he was too late. You raised the knife into the air and - while praying for Vicky to forgive you - you plunged it into Vicky's chest.

Vicky's eyes and mouth glow and spark as she twitches and drops the knife. Her body crumples to the ground for the last time.

"Sam!" Sam's partner yelled. "Get up here! The cops are coming!"

You stare at Vicky's lifeless body, rethinking what had just happened. Your best friend since middle school was dead, and you were her killer. You feel like a murderer.

Suddenly, Sam's hand was lifting your fist off the blade that you were gripping. You let go and shuffle backward, letting out a sob. She is dead and this isn't a dream.

Sam grabs you by your upper arms and lifts you up so you are standing, looking up at him. "Time to go," he tells you, letting go of one arm but dragging you along by the other.

He was taking bigger strides than what you could keep up with, but he made sure you didn't trip up the stairs. When you emerge from the basement, still sobbing, He guides you toward a window in the kitchen. His partner is outside.

"Give her to me," he says as Sam pushes you toward the window.

You do what they tell you and climb out the window, where you are helped out by Sam's partner. You feel like a dog on a leash as Sam jumps out and they hurry you along.

"Wait," you gasp, squirming free. "Where are we going?"

Sam looks at you worriedly, but his partner looks impatient. "You think you can stay here? They're going to find the body, and then what? You'll pretend it wasn't you?"

You start to speak, but he cuts you off.

"We're bringing you to a bus station. You're going to get out of here."

You scowl at him. "And why should I? You want me to listen to you after you broke into my friend's house? You shot her and trapped her in there! I had to kill her because of you!"

He returned the scowl. "Let me ask you this; do you think she was still alive in there? That if we took the demon out she would be able to live a normal life? The minute she was possessed she was dead." He steps menacingly toward you. "Stay here and spend the rest of your life in jail, or come with us. It wasn't right to kill her, but it doesn't mean you didn't have to. You don't have to go down for a crime you didn't commit out of necessity. And trust me, they aren't going to listen to the demon debriefing."

You hear a siren in the distance and you take in a breath, wiping your eyes. "Fine. Let's go."

You push past them and run to the car in front of the house. You hear them hesitate, but follow behind.

Sam gets in the passenger seat and you climb in the back. Sam turns to face you.

"I'm Sam, by the way, and that's my brother Dean."

Dean slams the car door and starts the car.

As he hits the gas sending you soaring down the road, you say, "I'm Y/N."

Sam smiles weakly and turns around to face the road. The sirens disappear behind you, and you lean back against the seat.

The life you used to know is gone forever.


	4. Chapter 4: Joyride

**Chapter Four: Joyride**

 _Dean pov_

"So," Dean finally piped up, "Where is the nearest bus station?" He had been reluctant to ask after what Y/N had said back at Vicky's house. Y/N was right, they had swooped in and stolen her from her life. She would never be the same after what they had done, and it was bad enough that they had brought her into the light about the supernatural.

"If you keep going east we'll be there by noon tomorrow," Y/N responded quietly. She sounded like she didn't want to talk to him ever again.

"Don't worry," Dean snapped, gripping the wheel. "I'll make sure we get you there by dawn."

Dean could hear Y/N shift in the seat behind them and he looked into the rearview mirror. Y/N was laying on her side with her eyes closed.

Sam looked behind him and then faced forward again, turning down the radio a bit so she could sleep. He glanced at Dean, who met his eyes, concerned. Dean gave him a nod as if to say, "I'll talk to you later, when she is asleep."

Sam shifted in his seat and leaned against the window, leaving Dean alone to his thoughts. Dean was worried. Not just about this girl's life that he had ruined, but also about the demon they had stashed at the bunker. Would he still be there when they got back?

Just because their prisoner had given them Vicky's coordinates as a proof of his trustworthiness, he was still a demon, and Dean hated demons; almost as much as he hated vampires. There was so much in the bunker that the miserable thing could get into if he escaped their devil's trap, and Dean really didn't want to think about what he could do with all that knowledge.

After worrying for a while, Dean shook his head. There was nothing he could do from here. Right now, he had to get this girl to the bus station and then he could focus on getting back to the bunker.

He glanced in the rearview mirror again and was able to see Y/N's face. She was fast asleep, her head resting on Dean's coat. He let out a breath and turned to Sam. Sam was asleep too, leaning against the window. Dean looked back at the road, but reached out and shoved Sam's shoulder. Sam jumped to life.

"Dean!" Sam growled. It took Sam a minute to adjust to where he was and what had happened. He too looked back at Y/N and faced Dean again. "She's asleep."

"Wow," Dean joked dryly. "You're smart. Did you learn that common sense in college?"

Sam huffed. "Why did you wake me up?"

Dean shifted in his seat, still staring at the road. "What are we going to do with her?"

Sam seemed confused. He wasn't confused about who Dean was talking about. Dean was sure Sam knew. Something else was making Sam act that way. "Do with her? Dean, we're taking her to the bus station."

Dean pursed his lips. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it either, but we need to have this conversation sometime."

"This conversation?" Sam threw his hands into the air. "You're going to have to be more specific, Dean."

"She's ruined," Dean spat. "She's seen what we do and had to kill her friend because of it. You think we can just leave her at the bus station?"

Sam bit his lip. "She looks like a strong girl."

"Strong doesn't cut it, Sammy," Dean argued. "You think the cops won't find out what she did? Let alone the other demons. They figure out she was with _us_ , she is dead, you hear me?"

"What do you want us to do with her?" Sam demanded. "What are you suggesting?"

Dean's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. "I know we can't just leave her at a bus station."

 _Sam pov_

Sam didn't know what was going through Dean's head. He knew Dean was worried about the demon they had left at the bunker, but now that worry was affecting how he was handling this situation.

"We don't have a choice," Sam insisted. As much as he hated saying it, they couldn't take Y/N with them. She had been through enough. He had been in the room when Y/N killed Vicky, and he saw how it tore her apart. He knew what it was like to be dragged into, and back into, the hunting life. He wanted to protect her from that, more than anything. "She needs to get on that bus."

"I just wish there was a way we could've kept her in the dark," Dean whispers. "Hell, so she doesn't turn out like us."

Sam peeked at Dean, who had his tired eyes locked on the road. This was the first time in a while that they had run into someone like this. Sometimes they let people figure it out on their own, and sometimes those people ended up dying. He remembered watching Sarah die - like it was yesterday - and closed his eyes. He didn't want anyone else to go through that. He and Dean had enough death for a lifetime.

"We can give her a gun, teach her some tricks, make sure she is safe before we send her off," Sam finally said. "I think that's all we can do."

Dean nodded. "As long as she is as far away from us as possible."

Sam leaned against the window again and shut his eyes. It was just around four in the morning, and he was too exhausted to think about Y/N's fate anymore.

The last thing he remembered was going over a bridge, the moon only a slit in the sky.

 _Reader pov_

Your eyes snap open and you panic for a moment. Where are you?

When it all comes back, you inhale sharply. It wasn't a dream, you're really in a psychopath's car, and you're really headed away from the only home you've ever known with nothing but the clothes on your back. It feels like a waking nightmare.

As far as you can tell, Dean is the only one awake. You wonder how he was able to drive so far without a wink of sleep. He probably just wants to get rid of you as soon as possible.

You turn your head and look out the window. The sun is just coming up over the trees. It's bright enough to tell where you are. Dean was right about one thing; he was able to get you to the bus station quicker. However, you know it won't be for a while until you get there.

Your stomach growls and you realize you haven't eaten in twelve hours or more.

You sit up and rub your eyes, catching the attention of Dean.

"Good morning, sunshine," He snorts.

You roll your eyes. "What time is it?"

"Six-thirty," Dean replies. "Hungry?"

"Very... Are we close to a restaurant?"

Dean smiles. "Honey, we don't do restaurants."

You look at his eyes in the rearview mirror, but he doesn't look back at you. "Right, I forgot I was with an assassin and a narcissist. Sorry for bringing it up."

"Ouch," Dean says, acting hurt. "Which one am I?" When you narrow your eyes and shake your head at him, he snickers. "I'll get you something, don't worry. You like burgers?"

"For breakfast?" You mock.

"Hey, I'm buying, so you're eating what I offer or you don't have to eat at all."

You catch him smirking to himself in the mirror again and you smile. "Sure, whatever."

He glances up this time, locking eyes with you. The longer you talk to him and hang around him, the less he seems like a killer. He had shot your friend, but he didn't know her. He didn't want to kill her.

He looks back at the road and you fold your hands in your lap. Maybe there was more to him than what he let you see. You study his face, his stubble, his little scars... you can see something behind his eyes. Whatever it is, he is masking it with his dry humor and smug facial expressions. You find yourself feeling bad for ever yelling at the guy. He could have shot you, or left you in the house, but he had taken you with him.

Sam sits up and stretches. His groggy eyes meet yours in the mirror and he jumps. "I'm not going to get used to that," he whispers, looking a bit red.

You shrug. "You won't have to. We're nearly there."

Sam contemplates you in the mirror with his eyebrows knit. He looks like he wants to apologize for saying that, or for dragging you into the entire thing, but instead, he purses his lips and looks ahead.

You set your sights on the rising sun before you and drift into thought.


	5. Chapter 5: The End of the Line

**Chapter Five: The End of the Line**

 _Sam pov_

Dean pulled into a crowded diner and parked. "Great."

"This is the only place for miles," Y/N says, opening the door. "Of course it's crowded."

Dean gave Sam a look and got out of the car, following her inside. Sam took a minute, sitting in the car a moment longer before following them. He - realizing Dean was right - couldn't wait to get back to the bunker, but he was hungry. One thing at a time.

Once inside, Sam spotted Dean and Y/N at a table in the back of the diner. He made his way over, still thinking about what had happened not even a day earlier.

" _This isn't your friend,"_ Sam had said.

Y/N was the one who killed Vicky, so why did Sam feel so bad? Why did he feel like Y/N hated him?

She probably did hate him, he realized. He didn't have Dean's "I'll fix my mistakes by joking with you about it" personality. He was awkward, especially because he knew Y/N was pretending to be fine. Not to mention, he was the one who dragged Y/N away from her friend after the deed was done. He didn't comfort her, he simply got her out of the house.

Sam sat down next to Dean, facing Y/N on the other side of the booth. They were in the middle of a conversation, making Sam feel even more left out. He didn't mind as much; Dean had a way with girls and emotionally damaged people that he would never understand.

"Definitely east coast," Dean told her, scooting over to make more room for Sam.

"Why not the west coast?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Trust me, I've been doing this my whole life. The east coast is much safer than the west."

"Fine. I guess I can go live in Maryland or something. Maybe Rhode Island."

"Now you're talking."

Just as their conversation concluded, a waitress came to their table. Dean ordered the "All American Breakfast" for both himself and Y/N, and Sam ordered himself a muffin and coffee.

When the waitress left, Y/N spoke up. "Not hungry?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't eat that much."

Dean elbowed him. "He's a health nut. He runs and exercises all the time. Me, I take pleasure in the simple things. Like an omelet with a side of bacon."

Y/N laughed. Sam noticed how hard Dean was trying to help Y/N forget about what had happened the previous night. It was sweet, comforting her in a way that Dean could only understand.

"I'll be right back," Dean said, standing. "Scoot, Sammy, I gotta go."

Sam got out and watched as Dean strutted across the diner to the men's room. Now Sam was alone with Y/N; just what he wanted to avoid. He sat back down slowly and gradually met her eyes.

She studied his face for a minute before piping up. "What happened back there, Sam?"

He was surprised that she had spoken, especially after what she said the night before. "Last night?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "You talked me down and let me kill her." Sam's lips parted, but he couldn't form words. Y/N continued, looking into her lap. "How did you know I wanted to be the one to do it? How did you know what to say? You made everything so," she paused, meeting his eyes, "... simple."

Sam wrung his hands. "This job does things to you," he starts. "It changed me as a person. Hardened me, softened me, opened my eyes." She tilted her head as if to ask for him to continue. Sam held her eyes in his. "I was in your place once."

"You had to kill someone you loved?" she asks, leaning in ever so slightly. Sam could see how much she wanted answers, how much she wanted to know what to do. She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm seriously overstepping."

"It's okay," Sam managed. "It was a long time ago. Her name was Madison."

Y/N's eyes dart around the room anxiously. "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam rubbed his neck with one hand. "I didn't actually know her for that long, but I really came to like her. She was sick and wanted me take her pain away for her." He couldn't look into Y/N's eyes anymore. "Dean offered to do it when I told Madison I couldn't. I couldn't do that to her. But she asked me, and it was my responsibility. I owed it to her." He slowly met Y/N's eyes. "I shot her."

Y/N stared blankly at Sam, looking for something to say, so Sam shook his head. "It's fine. I'm okay now. She's in a better place." Sam knew it wasn't true; Madison had been a werewolf. It was likely she was is purgatory at the very moment, fighting for her life.

"How do you move on from something like that?" Y/N asked softly.

Sam looked to the floor. "It takes time, and it hurts, but you will. There's no rushing it. You can only hope that tomorrow is going to be better."

Just as the words escaped his mouth, Dean spoke up. "What did I miss?" He slid into the seat next to Sam and sighed. "Where's our food?"

Y/N pointed to a waitress. "Here it comes."

As the waitress passed out their meals, Sam felt like some weight was taken off his shoulders. Y/N wasn't mad at him anymore, and maybe she never was. The way she talked to him and the way he was able to open up to her made him feel like she was going to be fine in the real world, knowing that the real world included monsters now. He even felt better about the fact that they were shoving her onto a bus to face the world alone. At least she would have a life.

Dean struck up another conversation with Y/N, who made fun of every word he said, and Sam continued to eat his muffin. Were they really leaving her in a few hours?

When everyone was finished - not just eating, but talking, as Dean had to flirt with the waitress for a while - they grabbed their coats, left a tip, and headed out on the road again. Y/N informed them the bus station was only two hours away. In two hours, they would never see one other again.

 _Reader pov_

"Here," Sam says, passing you a sheet of paper with a weird star on it. "You should get this tattooed somewhere on your body. So you don't get possessed."

You nod. "Thanks, Sam." You slip the paper into pocket.

"Keep out of trouble and stay off the radar for a while," Dean adds. "Use cash, don't say anywhere for more than a week, and don't do anything stupid."

"I got it," you tell him. "Don't take candy from strangers. I've heard it before." Something catches your eye; something reflecting light from the rising sun. You bend over and pull it out from under the back seat. It was the buckle from an old leather book.

Dean turns down a shorter road. "I'll give you some cash and you can get on whatever bus you'd like, as long as you get far away from here as possible."

You open the book. There are papers sticking out of every available space. Vampires. Werewolves. Shifters. Wendigo. Some you recognize, many you don't. Witches. Leviathans. Angels. The last two look newer, like they were added not too long ago. What is this thing? The car goes over a bump, but you don't look up. Ghouls. Dragons. Rougarou. You narrow your eyes. Jefferson Starship?

"We're here," Sam breathes.

A monster book. You slowly close it. Everything you ever had your dad check for under the bed, even things you hadn't thought of, were in this book. It was much more than what you thought, much more than you were ready to face.

"Y/N."

You look up at Dean, raising your eyebrows. "What?"

"We're here."

You look around, realizing Dean had parked. The brothers glance down at the book in your hands and your face instantly flushes red. What if you weren't allowed to look at it?

Dean snatches from your grasp. "That's enough of that."

"Where did you find that?" Sam questions you, only adding to the color of your face.

You swallow hard. "I... I found it under the seat."

Sam quickly turns to Dean. "I told you it was in the car!"

"I looked in the car!" Dean says defensively. "I swear it must've been put in here. Maybe Cas took it and-"

"Excuses, excuses," Sam interrupts.

Dean rolls his eyes and shoves the book into his coat. "Sorry you had to see that, Y/N."

You tilt your head. "The cat fight or the book?"

Dean sighs dramatically and gets out of the car. Sam smiles with satisfaction and does the same. You follow their lead.

They escort you to the registration desk, buy you a ticket (to the east coast, per Dean's request), and wait with you for your bus to come.

You doubted that telling the clerk, 'I need a one way to tim buck two' would do any good, but Dean managed to get you a bus to Connecticut that was leaving today.

"Here." Dean offers you a wad of cash. "That's enough to get you off your feet."

You examine the roll and stuff it in your sweatshirt pocket. "More than enough. Thank you."

Dean leans back a bit and flashes you a smile. Meanwhile, Sam folds his hands and looks around at the bus station. You are all sitting at a table in the corner away from the rushing travellers and crowd.

You look at the two men before you, and for a moment, you are able to take in who they really are. Dean's short cropped hair and sea colored eyes, his collared shirts and strange amulet necklace, his stubble and smirk. You see a guy who would do anything for anyone, regardless of what happens to him. You see a man who would never say no to fight and would never abandon his brother.

You turn to Sam, whose dark hazel eyes and cascading brown hair, whose plaid shirts and mystifying expressions, whose height and larger build tell a different story. You see a man who would rather help others than help himself or learn who he really is. While Dean knows what he wants and where he wants to go, Sam seems more unsure. You see a perfectionist and a gentle intelligence behind Sam's ordinary image. You want to know what is going on inside his head.

You see the brothers - the bond they share, the tension they possess - and you don't see the killers you saw before. You see hunters. You see the hidden heroes they want to be.

"So," you finally speak up. Sam and Dean both turn to you, almost in unison. "Which one of you is the older brother?"

Sam narrows his eyes as Dean's mouth spreads into a smile. "Established in 1979. Four years older, if you were wondering."

You notice Sam's annoyance and smirk. "Oh, really? Sam is so much taller than you though. Are you sure?"

A smile hints its way onto Sam's face, while Dean scrunches up his own. "Is he really that much taller?" Dean turns to Sam, snickering. "Maybe I should get on your dieting program. We can be training buddies!"

"In your dreams," Sam chuckles, shaking his head. A lock of hair fell onto his forehead.

"Anyway, get yourself into the city. Hide in plain sight. Don't talk to demons and definitely don't sell your soul," Dean tells you promptly.

"And never mention that I met you guys?" You suggest.

"Yes," they both say urgently. Sam clears his throat, leaning in. "I know it's a lot to ask of you-"

"It's fine," you tell him. You realize how soon you'll be on the bus. You feel sick. You have never gone more than a state over, and you have never seen the ocean. "Hey, you never told me what your last name is." You try for a conversation to ease your nerves.

"Confidential," Dean spurts. "They can find you better if you know that name."

You cross your legs and look down, nodding your head. You feel their eyes on you, but you don't want to look up. You feel like tears are going to start coming down your face; leaving home, leaving the safety of Sam and Dean, and risking your life seemed difficult all of a sudden.

"Hey." You bite your lip and look up at Sam, who has his eyes on you. "You're going to be alright. It's not going to be easy, but I assure you, you're going to be safe. That's why you have to stay away from us and everything that comes with us."

He raises his eyebrows, and you purse your lips. "Promise."

"What?"

"Promise that I will be okay," you insist. "I know that I might be living on the streets, and I might be in danger, but promise me that this demon stuff isn't going to catch up with me. Promise me that i'm going to be fine."

Sam purses his lips and hesitates. Dean looks to you, then to Sam, and back to you.

"I promise, you're going to be alright." Sam shifts in his seat. "But that promise only works if you do your part."

"What's my part?" you ask, fidgeting with your shirt.

"Get that tattoo," Sam urges you, "and don't come back. Don't go home and don't come looking for us." He takes a breath, realizing how harsh it sounds. "This is the end of your life here."

You nod, blinking back your tears. Sam opens his mouth again, but closes it, studying your face. You look down again.

" _Now boarding Platform B for the 11:00 service to Hartford, Connecticut. Passengers should report to Dock A for boarding and luggage inspection. Hartford, Connecticut; now boarding."_

"We'll walk you to the bus," Dean offers, standing.

"No," you blurt. They both look surprised as you stand and walk before them. "Sam is right, this should be the end of the line."

Dean nods, not meeting your eyes. Sam fidgets in his place.

"I'm so sorry that you have to go through this," Sam apologizes. "I hope you can find a new home in Connecticut."

You smile, and Dean cuts in. "Come here you brat." Suddenly, you're enveloped in Dean's bear hug. You laugh and wrap your arms around him too.

When he pulls away, he flashes you a sincere smile. You look to Sam, who is rather quiet.

"Thank you," you manage. He extends a hand to you, but you throw out your arms and give him a hug too. He gladly wraps his arms around you, and is able to say goodbye without words.

When you pull away you give them a weak smile, they do the same.

Dean crosses his arms and grins. "Get out of my sight."

You giggle, wave, and turn on your heel, heading to Dock A. You feel them watching you walk away, but you keep your eyes set ahead; set on your new life. You would likely never forget your days with Sam and Dean, an image of their ordinary faces burned into your memory, but you knew how insignificant you were and how easily they would forget you. A warm tear slips down your cheek as you walk around the corner. Sam and his brother Dean would always be strangest people you could ever met, but you had come to love how they made such an ordinary life unique.

You tuck them into the back of your mind, board the bus, and try to forget all the terrible things that had happened.


	6. Chapter 6: Crowley Has a Thing For Us

**Chapter Six: Crowley Has a Thing for Us**

 _r_

 _Dean pov_

Dean glanced over at Sam, whose plate was still full and whose eyes were fixed on something in the distance.

"Are you going to eat?" Dean asked, taking a bite of his bacon. "It's only getting colder."

Sam shook his head to clear it and looked to Dean. "Um, Yeah." Dean watched as Sam picked up his fork and shoveled some eggs into his mouth.

The bunker had been quiet for quite some time as the brothers awaited news from Cas. He had promised to come back soon with some information, but he hadn't been back in a week. Sam and Dean were bored, impatient, and itching for a hunt.

Dean slammed his fist down on the table. "Angels man! Where is the son of a-"

"Dean," Sam interrupted. "Cas will be here."

Dean didn't want to accept that answer. "What if he's stuck somewhere? What if Crowley got to him?"

Sam set down his fork down and wiped his mouth with one hand. "You know Crowley has a thing for Cas. He wouldn't do anything to him."

"Are you _sure_?" Dean snapped. "Last I remember, Crowley has a thing for _us_ , but he hasn't been completely on our side in the past two months."

Sam leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Dean."

"What, Sammy? Crowley has been public enemy number one for longer than I can remember! What makes you think he'll be a good boy now?"

Suddenly there was a fluttering of wings and a gust of wind. "Hello, Dean."

Dean nearly fell out of his chair as he whipped around to face the intruder. "Cas?"

"Cas!" Sam called. "Where have you been?"

"I have a location," Cas explained, "and a name."

Dean stood, his chair crashing to the ground. "Spit it out!" He had been waiting for a _week_ , which was a week longer than he was able to handle. He wanted to take action.

Cas wasn't phased by Dean's yelling. "A warehouse off Interstate 310 and River Road in Louisiana. It took a while to find it with the angel warding, but I was able to locate Crowley's position when I started to notice the cattle death and droughts." He paused. "The name is Ryan."

Sam stood now, walking around the table next to Dean. "Are you coming with us, Cas?"

"No. I'm not of use with the warding. Besides, Crowley will be gone by the time you get there. I have to keep tracking him." With that, Cas was gone.

Dean spun in a circle, coming to a stop in front of Sam. "What are you looking at? Let's go!"

He pushed past Sam to gather everything they would need. It would be a fifteen hour drive, but Dean was ready to do anything but stay in this bunker, waiting.

They were in the middle of their biggest case in a long time. Crowley was abducting people - people who had no connection whatsoever, as far as Dean could tell - for something big. They didn't know what he was planning, but this warehouse was warded and guarded with enough demons to cause droughts and cattle deaths; it had to be big. Not to mention, Crowley himself was involved. Dean enjoyed meeting up with Crowley, especially if it meant one day, it would be Crowley's last.

Before Dean knew it, he and Sam were on the road.

 _Sam pov_

Sam hadn't seen Dean so focused in a long time. His eyes were on the road and his hands - yes, both - were on the wheel. He didn't even turn the radio on or make conversation with Sam.

Sam looked out his window. All he knew was that, whatever they were getting into, was important. Ever since they got into this case, Sam had been wondering if it was just like normal. However, when he heard that Crowley was kidnapping these people, he knew it was different. It wasn't like when Crowley captured the prophets to translate his tablets either. Cas didn't even know why these people were important. No one knew.

Then there was Ryan. Crowley was after one important person in particular, and until Cas had arrived and told the brothers his name, Sam and Dean didn't know who it was. Now they new that person was Ryan, but they knew nothing about this "Ryan" or what he had to do with anything.

"Can we talk about what's going on, Dean?" Sam managed to say, breaking the silence that had lasted for about four hours now.

Dean blinked a few times as if he didn't expect Sam to start speaking, but he kept his eyes on the road. "Sure, Sammy. What's on your mind?"

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's sarcastic tone, but continued. "We're driving fifteen hours away to a warehouse, we're alone, we don't have Cas, Crowley could be there, it's flooded with demons..."

"Oh, right. That," Dean spat. "Sam, I know. We've got to do this, even though we don't know what we're walking into."

Sam licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. "I just think we should get a plan. It's probably a trap, or worse. If we don't... well... you know what happens."

Dean glanced over to Sam for a split second. "It could even happen if we have a plan, Sammy. People die. It's life."

"Is that what you're going to tell yourself when we walk into this trap and I die?" Sam shouted. "Or you die? Or all the people in this warehouse die?"

Sam watched Dean stiffen in his seat. He wanted to yell at him again for calling it "life," but he kept his mouth shut and gazed out his window again.

A sign before them read, "Now Leaving Kansas! Come Again!" Dean sped up as they crossed the border into Oklahoma, and Sam settled in his seat, checking the clock. _**"4 a.m."**_ it read. It was going to a _long_ eleven hours.

 _7:53 a.m._

Sam jumped awake. The radio was blaring - it was _Eye of the Tiger_ , Dean's favorite - and the sun was shining into his eyes.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean whooped.

Sam looked at the clock and groaned. "Why, Dean."

Dean chuckled. "Hey, we're in Dallas. Take a look."

Sam squinted out the window. It looked like any other city, except for the size of roads and bridges they were on that weaved together like webs. "Thanks, Dean," Sam sighed sarcastically. "I think this experience has changed my life."

Dean smiled. "Now, get me a sandwich. They're in the backseat."

Sam let out an exasperated sigh and twisted around to grab Dean's bag. He didn't mind; Dean was driving, after all, and Sam had gotten a solid four hours of sleep. He threw a ham sandwich into Dean's lap and pulled out a turkey sandwich for himself.

"This is the life," Dean gleamed, taking a bite. With his mouth full, he added, "Just you, me, and Baby. Nothing but roads."

Sam snorted. "I see _someone_ is glad to be hunting again."

"Man," Dean shouted over his radio, "you have no idea! Waiting in that bunker is like watching paint dry."

Sam chuckled and bit into his sandwich. "Dude!"

Dean grinned. "Good, huh?"

"It's amazing!" Sam said with a full mouth.

"Well, Chef's secret." The song changed, and to Sam's surprise, Dean was able to turn the radio up even more.

As Dean sang along, Sam laughed with amusement. Nevertheless, somewhere inside him, he knew that they were going to be in deep very soon. For now, all he could do was eat his sandwich and focus on the road ahead.

 _Dean pov_

"We're close," Dean uttered, taking in the darkness around them. It didn't help that it was one in the morning and Dean was restless. Sam had offered to drive so Dean could rest, but Dean was only able to catch three hours; more or less.

"Okay, Dean. You said that five times now."

Dean tapped his fingers on his knee. Sam had been right earlier, they needed a plan. Of course, Dean didn't want to ask Sam what he thought - it would prove him wrong. "We can split up and get rid of all the demons guarding the place, then devil's trap the entrances. We'll meet back in front and decide what to do next." Sam didn't respond, so Dean continued. "I'll take Ruby's knife, you can have the gun with devil's trap bullets."

Sam pulled down a side road and turned off the headlights. "There are hundreds of demons here, Dean. You're not going to be able to kill enough to stay alive if you have the knife."

"You got a better idea?" Dean argued. "No? Okay. I'm taking the knife."

Sam sighed, slowing down and stopping the car as they approached the warehouse. It was bigger than Dean imagined, covered in rust and spray painted angel warding.

"It's creepy alright," Dean groaned. "Definitely the place."

The car shook, and suddenly, Dean heard a voice behind him. "Dean."

Dean jumped, realizing the source of all the commotion. "Cas! What are you doing here? I thought-"

"Crowley is here," Cas explained, examining Sam and then looking to Dean.

"Crowley is here?" Sam asked. "I thought he would be long gone."

Cas twitched. "If you'll excuse me a moment." He disappeared.

"Cas!" Dean called. Instantly, before them was a bright flash, forcing Sam and Dean to close their eyes.

"I have returned," Cas said behind them abruptly.

Dean jumped again. "Quit it, Cas!"

Cas nodded. "I apologize, Dean. I was merely smiting demons before you. They should be taken care of."

"All of them?" Sam pondered.

"All of those outside," Cas corrected. "You should rid of the angel warding and make those traps now." Again, he vanished.

Dean gave Sam and look. "You heard the man. Let's go."

 _Sam pov_

The airy sound of the spray can told Sam it was empty, and he threw it aside with the others. All of the entrances were blocked with devil's traps now. No one was getting in or out.

"We good?" Dean called. "I finished with the anti-angel warding."

"Yeah," Sam responded.

Dean tossed him the gun. "See, it'll be fine. We have Cas to smite some demons if I get in trouble. Nothing to worry about."

Sam nodded, but he wasn't going to let it go. Dean was reckless.

"Let's go!" Dean strode into the warehouse, and Sam sighed, following close behind.

The warehouse was dimly lit and smelled of musk. Sam looked left and right; each path was a long hallway.

"I'm going right," Dean stated, heading off.

Before Sam could protest, Cas appeared. He nodded to Sam, as if to tell him that he would take care of his brother, and followed the confident Dean down the right hall. Sam rolled his eyes and took the hallway to the left. It was eerily quiet.

Sam turned every corner swiftly, holding out his gun in preparation to shoot something. Nothing came. Maybe Cas was able to smite the demons inside too.

The hallways never seemed to end. He turned left, right, and left again, barely finding anything, except some sulfur. They were here. He had to keep looking.

Then, Sam heard a voice. He stalked forward, approaching a wider door that had light coming from the ceiling. He could hear the voice better now.

"Does _this_ hurt?" It asked.

Sam knew that voice anywhere. Crowley.

He heard a scream coming from the same direction. It wasn't Cas, or Dean, or Crowley. It was someone else in pain.

Sam couldn't stand it any longer. He moved closer, able to see into the room. Someone was tied up with their arms extended out, as if they were a scarecrow, unable to escape as Crowley dragged and angel blade against their skin.

"Ryan," Crowley cooed. "I'm going to ask you one more time; where are they?"

"Ryan..." Sam uttered.

Ryan's head was limp, resting against his chest. The hair that had fallen into his face was shoulder length, like Sam's, and he didn't respond to Crowley. Sam snuck toward them, lifting his gun higher. It was pointed at Crowley's head.

Crowley swung the angel blade in circles. "You know, I'm getting tired of asking you, and if you keep passing out, this isn't going to be any fun."

Sam saw Dean on the other side of the open storage room, hiding behind a stack of crates. Dean nodded to him, and Sam continued on.

Crowley stopped swinging the blade. "Last chance!"

Ryan coughed, a trace of blood falling from his mouth onto the floor.

"I'll take that as a no." Crowley raised the blade.

Sam fired a bullet on impulse to save Ryan; however, he wasn't close enough. It went soaring through the air, right through where Crowley once was. By that time, Crowley had disappeared.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled. "Cas! Find Crowley!"

Sam heard a whoosh as the angel went after their demon foe. Sam sprinted over to Ryan.

"Ryan?" Sam yelled, arriving next to him. "I'm Sam Winchester. I'm here to help." He looked to Dean. "Hurry up!"

Dean sprinted over and slashed the ropes that held Ryan up. He crumpled to the ground.

"Hey, hey, you need to get up..." Sam whispered. He grabbed Ryan's hand and started to pull.

That's when Ryan looked to him with scared eyes, hair falling back. Sam nearly had a heart attack. It was Y/N.


	7. Chapter 7: Troubled, to Say the Least

**Chapter Seven: Troubled, to Say the Least**

 _Dean pov_

 _It's too early for this,_ Dean thought as he opened the fridge, yawning and grabbing the closest beer. Groggily, he stepped back, popping off the lid and taking a swig. It was cold and refreshing; just the way he liked it.

Shards of glass crunched under his feet as he walked toward the table in the bunker kitchen. As he sat down heavily, he heard a noise, making him jump. Dean whipped his head around to see Cas closing the fridge that he had left open.

Dean let out a sigh of relief, not really sure why he was so worked up in the first place, and rubbed his sore hand. "Thanks, Cas."

Cas looked Dean over and nodded, his expression stoic. There was a long silence before Dean took another sip and cleared his throat. "Sorry about last night."

Cas looked away, and Dean knew what he was feeling. Guilty. Dean felt it too. However, Cas was feeling guilty for different reasons. Cas hadn't been able to find Crowley after he zapped away. Cas didn't know what Crowley's intentions were. And Cas wasn't able to heal Y/N. Not that he didn't have the power... Y/N wouldn't let him touch her.

Dean, on the other hand, felt horrible that he ever let Y/N walk away in the first place. He could've protected her from Crowley. Now she was scarred; physically and emotionally. It was exactly what Dean wanted to keep her from.

Dean felt bad that Cas had to deal with that guilt, but he also felt bad for all that he was asking of the angel. As soon as they had found Y/N, they had Cas teleport them back to the bunker so they could treat her. And when she wouldn't let Cas get near her, he had gone back to the warehouse and teleported Baby back. Dean didn't care about the car at the moment, and didn't mean for Cas to feel the need to go get it, which made him feel worse. Cas just wanted to help. Well, Dean did too; but Cas felt like he needed to assist Dean whenever there wasn't something to help out with. Thus, Dean was feeling... troubled, to say the least.

He took a long gulp of what was left of his beer and stood, leaving the bottle on the table. "I'm going to go check on Sam." When Cas stepped forward, Dean shook his head. "I got this one, Cas. Make yourself comfortable."

Dean quickly left the room before Cas could interject. He couldn't worry about Cas right now. Sammy and Y/N were dealing with worse. Especially Y/N...

He turned the corner and spotted Sam sitting outside the bathroom door, his head in his hands. Dean walked toward him, calling out, "Sammy."

Sam jerked awake, blinking and looking around as if he didn't know where he was. Eventually he settled on Dean with his tired, red eyes. "Hey, Dean."

Dean felt a stab in his heart when he saw how tired and impacted Sam was. He _knew_ shouldn't have let Y/N go. Sam felt responsible, Y/N was hurt, and Dean could see the walls closing in around him. _Plaster on a smile and pretend everything is fine. Do it for Sammy._

"How's Y/N doing?" Dean asked, purposely avoiding, _"How are YOU doing?"_ He already knew the answer.

Sam put his hands in his lap. "That depends. How long was I out?"

Dean looked at his watch, which allowed him to also get a look at his bloody knuckles. They were bruised, but the blood was dry, at least. "It's nine a.m."

Sam looked a little confused, as if he hadn't expected such a big time change. "Well, you know I was looking after her after she locked herself in her room..." Dean knew. She cursed at Dean and screamed at Cas before she had slammed the door. She was strong, Dean had to admit, despite being tortured just an hour before. "She locked herself in here around five. I'd say she's doing better, if she can walk around and scream at us."

Dean nodded, and even though Sam smiled softly back at him, Dean could see how empty it was. Sam was hurting.

"I thought I heard the shower running a while ago," Sam added. "Maybe she just needs to clean up and be alone."

"By alone, you mean you'll only let her be a door apart from you?" Dean laughed faintly. He hoped Sam would appreciate some humor. "She _does_ need space, but I'm glad you're keeping an eye on her."

Sam smiled weakly - and probably emptily again - looking at the ground. At least Dean make him feel a little better.

"Holler if she says anything," Dean uttered, clearing his throat. "I'm going to see if Cas has anything on Crowley yet."

Sam looked Dean up and down, nodding. Dean took that as his cue to leave, strutting down the hall.

Once he was around the corner, he looked behind him to make sure Sam hadn't followed or something. He ducked into his room, closing the door quietly behind him and sighing. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Cas again. Dean just wanted to be alone and have some time to think.

He laid back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for a while, before closing his eyes.

 _Sam pov_

Sam watched Dean walk down the hall and let the smile fade from his face. How Dean managed to hold himself together, Sam didn't know. Maybe he was telling himself he was fine? Maybe he was pretending he didn't care about Y/N? Sam wasn't good at hiding his feelings like Dean. Dean was a professional; so good, only Sam could tell that he was struggling.

There was no noise coming from the bathroom - not even the shower like before - so Sam took it as an opportunity to rest his head in his hands again.

What happened last night was still pounding in Sam's brain. It hurt to think about, but it was all he could see when he closed his eyes. Y/N's eyes staring back at him. Wet, red, terrified eyes. And Sam could've prevented it all. What had she been going through in the past year? Had she endured this for all that time? And why had she been called Ryan?

What hurt even more was how Y/N reacted to seeing them. Sam remembered it all too well.

" _Sam?" She had said, her voice raspy and quiet. Sam couldn't think of what to say; he only stared at her. She twisted her head and spotted Dean. "Dean?"_

 _Dean hadn't realized as soon as Sam. Sam heard the knife clang as it hit the floor. "What the Hell?"_

 _Sam pulled his hands away for only a moment, discovering that they were covered in blood. He look up in fear at Dean, who had already seen. His brother didn't hesitate. "Cas! Get your ass down here!"_

 _Cas appeared instantly, breathing heavily. "Crowley is gone."_

 _Dean grabbed his knife, talking in a harsh tone. "We need to get out of here. Now."_

 _Cas scrunched his nose, confused, until he noticed Y/N on the ground. His face reverted to stone cold. Meanwhile, Sam gathered Y/N in his arms as she kept trying to speak. "Did you say, Sam Winchester?"_

 _Sam looked down at her again; his mistake. She was terrified as it was, and once Sam looked down, she must've seen something behind his eyes. Something terrible. "You're Sam Winchester..."_

 _Cas grabbed Sam and Dean's shoulders, and before he knew it, he was back at the bunker._

Sam opened his eyes and looked around. His thoughts had overtaken him again, and he hadn't realized he was still sitting outside of the bathroom door. He listened carefully and could hear the faucet running; a sign she was still alive in there. Maybe she was hungry... Sam didn't want to risk getting up. What if someone came and tried to hurt her again? No one could get in the bunker, but Sam didn't want to leave her side nonetheless.

Sam rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, continuing to recall the previous night.

 _Sam ran down the hall, following Dean into an empty room. He carefully laid Y/N, who was struggling to breathe, on the bed and stepped back. "Now what?" he asked frantically. No one responded, as if they were frozen. "Dean!"_

 _Dean snapped back into reality, barking orders. "Get the med kit, Sam."_

 _Sam turned on his heel and left the room, running to the kitchen without hesitation. He knocked a vase onto the floor when he reached for the kit, and it shattered, shards covering the floor. They crunched under Sam's shoes as he rushed back toward the spare bedroom. Hurry..._

 _As he turned the corner, he heard Y/N screaming, followed by a door slamming. HURRY._

 _He ran around the corner just as Cas disappeared, leaving Dean alone in the hallway. Dean shouted and punched the wall repeatedly, harder each time, as Sam came to a stop before him. "Dean? What just happened?"_

 _Dean kicked the wall too, before turning to face Sam, still raging. "She locked herself in there. And Cas is gone."_

 _Sam squinted. "I thought she could barely move?"_

 _Dean threw his hands in the air. "You're telling me!" He pushed past Sam, storming down the hall._

 _Sam walked up to the door, starting to say something, before stopping. What would he say to her? She had been through so much... He stood in front of the door, trying to think of something. Should he offer her the med kit? She obviously didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone, or come out. But what if she was bleeding out in there? Sam had to try something._

" _Y/N..." He rapsed, clearing his throat. "I have-"_

 _Suddenly, the door swung open, and Y/N pushed Sam back. He wasn't expecting it, at ALL, so he fell back into the hallway. Plus, she was pretty strong. She scowled at him for a moment before huffing and limping quickly down the hallway, trying to find her way around._

 _Sam rubbed the back of his head, which had been thrown against the wall, and stood carefully, chasing after her. "Y/N, wait a minute! You're bleeding!"_

 _Y/N ignored him, discovering the bathroom. She quickly stumbled inside, starting to close the door._

 _Sam practically dove, putting his hand in the crack of the door and prying it open. "Y/N-"_

" _Get AWAY from me, Sam," She shrieked, pushing the door as hard as she could._

 _Sam was pretty strong too, and he wasn't about to let her die in the bathroom. Not after what happened to Charlie... They struggled for a minute before she stopped, pulling the door open quickly. Again, Sam was caught off guard, falling forward. She took advantage of his confusion and weakness to slam the door in his face._

 _Sam fell back in the hallway again. This time, he sat there, not even bothering to stand up. He had failed her. She was hurt, and that hurt him more than anything._

 _Reader pov_

You sit in the bathtub with your eyes closed, breathing softly. You know Sam is right outside the door; you had heard him talking to Dean. Sam was right about a few things; you had showered a while ago, you were doing _somewhat_ okay, and you wanted to be left alone, for heaven's sake.

Every breath you take is small; you can't risk taking one too big. It hurts too much, especially after Crowley threw you around like a rag doll. You can tell nothing is broken, but it hurts nonetheless.

You open your eyes slowly and look down at yourself. Your clothes are damp from showering in them, but that isn't the worst of your issues. There are tiny cuts and bruises all over your legs and arms from being tossed around. There are bigger slashes across your upper chest, right thigh, and left side from all the times Crowley cut you with his angel blade. The one on your side is bleeding the worst, but you have been holding a towel against it for a while. When you move the towel to check on it, blood starts to gush out, so you quickly apply pressure again.

You are getting weaker by the minute, but you don't want to call for help. Weakness is not something your want to be known for, especially amongst the Winchesters.

When you were taken captive by Crowley, he had informed you all about the Winchesters. Brutal killers. Thieves. Frauds. You didn't trust Crowley, but Crowley took other prisoners as well, who you came trust. They agreed on Crowley's stories. The Winchesters were not to be reckoned with.

You were having trouble understanding that Sam and Dean, who put you on a bus and sent you to safety, were _the_ Winchesters. They came to your rescue, and when you put two and two together, you were scared. You attacked them instead of letting them help. Now you were alone and dying, unsure of what to do. Could you trust them?

You were also having trouble understanding why Crowley would want you in the first place. Why he took you captive. Why he did all those horrible things to you. You reach us and touch your neck, the very first place he cut. All that remains is the scar, which felt deep, but it must've been pretty shallow if you didn't bleed out. Then again, Crowley had healed it with his demon powers...

That was another thing. All your life, you had literally _never_ been hurt. At least, that's what it felt like, compared to what Crowley put you through. You couldn't even stomach it.

You let out a sigh before reaching up and pushing the shower curtain aside, your whole body shaking as you lift yourself out of the tub. You barely manage to stand, dropping the towel as you reach under the sink for a new one.

You are struggling to breathe and stand, your sight starting to become blotchy. _Where are all the towels?_ You drop to your knees suddenly, still searching and holding your side. _Come on. You've bled more than this on your period._ Pain shoots through you as you fall onto your side with a thump. You can feel the blood seeping through your clothing and hand, and you can barely think as your eyes start to close.

You realize that death, and this pain, is scarier than Sam and Dean could ever be; even if they were killers. The last thing you remember is a desperate attempt to call out, "Sam..." as your head hits the floor.


	8. Chapter 8: Too Little, Too Late

**Chapter Eight: Too Little, Too Late**

 _Dean pov_

 _Suddenly, Dean found himself back at the bunker, the sound of his blood pumping in his ears. He sprinted down the hallway into one of the spare rooms, Cas and Sam close behind, both soon entering the room right behind him. He watched in anticipation as Sam laid their friend, the girl they were_ supposed _to keep safe, onto the bed._

 _She winced as she was set down, and quickly covered her side with her hands. Dean stared at her pained expression, his heart racing, only able to think about two things; the first being that those sheets were stained for good, and the second being that his job was to hunt monsters to save people, and he couldn't even do that right._

" _Now what?" Sam demanded somewhere off in the distance of Dean's mind, too far away for Dean to really hear. He could only watch Y/N struggle to lift her head and look around the room at Cas, Sam, himself..._

" _Dean!" Sam shouted, and this time, Dean was thrown back into the present. Sam couldn't do this alone. He had to focus if they wanted to save Y/N's life._

 _Time slowed as Dean retreated into the depths of his more sensible thoughts. He often fled there in times of crisis; that way, he could think without his emotions clouding his judgement._

 _First things first, healing her. Dean knew she could bleed out in a matter of minutes, and nothing they had could stitch her up good enough. Dean thought about burning the wounds closed, but he knew heating a metal object could take time. Time they didn't have. The only option... Cas._

 _Cas had healed Dean in the past, and Dean knew what it felt like. It hurt much less than getting burned or stitched up. However, Dean wasn't sure if it would hurt more with deeper wounds. He had to force himself deeper into his thoughts in order to forget about Y/N's agony. Her life was more important than how much it would hurt._

 _Second; Sam. He couldn't be here if Dean wanted this to work. They didn't have time to argue, and if Y/N started screaming in pain, Sam would want Cas to stop. Dean didn't want to risk it._

 _What seemed like minutes of planning had only been milliseconds, and Dean was back in action._

 _First step, get rid of the little brother. "Get the med kit, Sam."_

 _Sam was gone quicker than Dean had hoped. In fact, Dean thought Sam would realize Cas could heal Y/N much faster and, thus, had been praying Sam would leave before he could figure it out. If Dean wasn't focused, he might've felt bad for sending Sam away. Thank Chuck for suppressed emotions._

 _Dean rushed to Y/N's side and helped her sit up carefully. She grunted in pain, almost making Dean sick. He started to think about how much pain and suffering she must've been through..._

" _Cas," Dean hastily commanded at the rather flustered angel, "heal her."_

 _Cas stepped forward, slowly extending his arm toward Y/N's forehead. That's when it all went downhill._

 _All within the span of twenty seconds, Y/N screamed, kicking Cas in the gut and elbowing Dean in the face. Y/N started to get up, as did Cas, so Dean followed suit - no time to cradle his throbbing nose. Cas tried to explain what he was going to do, but Y/N wouldn't listen. Dean wasn't sure what she yelled - perhaps something along the lines of, "Don't touch me, you dick!" - but it made Cas slowly back out of the room. As Dean stumbled toward Cas to reassure him that it was okay, that he could still heal her, Y/N hit him from behind. Dean toppled forward as Y/N slammed the door behind him._

 _Dean spun around and pounded on the door. "Y/N! Cas is an angel!"_

" _I'm well aware of what he is, douchebag," Y/N shouted from the other side. "He is not laying a hand on me."_

" _You're going to bleed out," Dean growled. "Open the door."_

" _I'll put pressure on it," Y/N snapped. "I don't need your help, or the help of that filthy angel."_

 _Dean turned to Cas, who looked very distraught and hurt by Y/N's words. "She doesn't like angels. It's not you, Cas."_

 _Cas slowly shook his head in denial. "I just want to help, Dean."_

" _Cas, you are helping," Dean tried to assure him. It was too little, too late. Cas was gone in the blink of an eye._

 _Y/N was dying, Cas was upset... It all left Dean feeling hopeless. He shouted, emotions crashing down around him; not the kind he could push under the mat. Rage took hold, which was the only way Dean survived his other feelings of sadness, fear, and guilt. It boiled over, making Dean's whole head ache..._

" _Dean? What just happened?"_

 _Dean blinked a few times, suddenly realizing he had just smashed his fist several times into the wall. His knuckles were red with a faint amount of blood, but the wall was in worse shape. Why did he have to ruin everything? Why couldn't he control himself? He kicked the wall forcefully to get it all out, and gingerly met eyes with his little brother, who was tilting his head in confusion._

" _She locked herself in there," Dean snarled harsher than he meant. "And Cas is gone."_

" _I thought she could barely move?" Sam pondered._

 _Dean just wanted to be left alone, and Sam kept asking questions... He threw his hands in the air mockingly. "You're telling me!" And then he was pushing past his brother, storming down the hall, slamming his door... Everything blurred together; rage and pain sprinkled in the mix. Dean hated emotional overloads. He was alone now, in his room, with nothing but time to wallow in these worthless emotions..._

Lying in his bed now, he felt helpless and controlled by everything around him. At least Y/N wasn't dead yet, and at least Sam and Cas were doing okay. Whatever Dean was feeling, he knew he had to put it aside and focus on them; especially now that they needed him.

Dean hadn't expected to be needed so soon.

 _Sam pov_

Sam considered himself lucky that he had been paying attention so well. Otherwise, he wouldn't've heard Y/N from behind the door. She had murmured "Sam" so quietly that Sam had to sit there for a minute and question if he had really heard it.

"Y/N?" Sam pressed his ear to the door, calling out her name. "Y/N?" No response.

Sam stood now, yanking the door handle. "Y/N, answer me..." He pounded on the door, just in case she was unable to hear him the first time. "If this is some sick joke... Y/N, open the door!"

Sam couldn't take it anymore. The silence was deafening. He had lost too many people, and Y/N had been through too much... She couldn't just die... Before he knew it, he was breaking down the door.

There she was, unmoving, sprawled out on the floor, covered in her own blood. It might've been beautiful or poetic if she wasn't dying. "Dean!" Sam felt his last meal start to come up, which was unlike him. He killed things that bled all the time, how could this be different? "Dean, hurry!"

Sam dropped to his knees. The last thing he cared about was getting blood on him. He had carried Y/N earlier, and his shirt was already stained from that encounter... "Hey, Y/N..." he started, putting two fingers on her neck to feel for a pulse. Waiting for it threatened to tear Sam apart. He held his breath.

Sam sighed deeply when he felt the faint pulse from her neck. She was still alive. He looked her over, carefully resting a hand on her shoulder. There was so much blood... He couldn't even tell where it was coming from. He gently shook her shoulder, whispering, "Hey... I need you to wake up..." Still nothing. Sam heard Dean approaching and frantically turned to face him.

"Oh god..." his brother breathed as he took in the scene. Sam felt a stab of guilt that Dean had to witness this, especially after Charlie... Where they found her... He watched Dean swallow hard and turn away. "Cas! We need you!"

Sam turned back to Y/N, and suddenly, Cas was in front of him. "Cas," Sam gasped.

Cas nodded slightly before pressing his hand to Y/N's forehead and closing his eyes. Sam watched with wide eyes as the blood materialized and a huge gash in Y/N's side sealed, literally, in a flash. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and felt Dean kneeling down behind him.

"She's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We didn't lose another one."

Another one. She was almost a part of their _ever growing_ list of deaths... Sam smiled weakly, looking back at Dean, who returned it with a nod.

"I shouldn't be here when she wakes up," Cas grunted as he removed his hand.

Sam shifted his attention back to the angel. "Cas, I think she would lik-"

"Good idea," Dean interrupted.

"What?" Sam stuttered. "He healed her, I think she would be grateful."

"She isn't ready, Sam," Dean stated in his _'we will talk about this later'_ tone. Sam never liked that tone. "See you later, Cas."

Cas vanished just as Y/N started to stir.

 _Reader pov_

You groan softly, struggling to lift your heavy eyelids and pull yourself from your peaceful dream. _You were in a vast field of purple flowers, watching the birds flutter back and forth, when one flew down to you from the sky. It had larger wings, and as it got closer, you saw that it wasn't a bird at all. It was an angel._

Your eyes open, but only as a squint so you can see if the field it still around you. Instead, two boys peer over you worriedly. You try to open your eyes wider and sit up. Is it Sam and Dean? You hear them saying something to you, but you can't make out the words. All you know is that they don't want you to get up, because they lay a hand on your shoulder and push you down.

Sam and Dean Winchester... You try to remember what those names mean to you. On one hand, they could be the psychopathic killers who only want you alive for information about Crowley. On the other hand, they took you in after you had to kill your best friend, sent you off on a bus to keep you safe, and saved you a _second time_ when you fell into the hands of Crowley.

What if they _wanted_ you to be caught by Crowley so that they could use you as a spy?

You feel one of their hands brushing a strand of hair off your face, and you make up your mind; they are good, honest people. You decide to trust them, but you're not ready to forgive them. Not yet.

It hits you; Cas must've healed you, because the pain is gone. That makes you uncomfortable for some reason. Crowley's demons had done _things_ to you, and often healed you so that they could do them over and over and over... Healing seemed like an escape rather than facing your problems. Besides, other prisoners in Crowley's cells had said angels were bad news. Cas was probably bad news too... Right?

The boys keep trying to talk to you, but you're too weak to respond. You feel yourself falling into a deep, much needed rest. Soon, you are surrounded by blooming lilacs once more.

 _Sam pov_

"She's asleep," Sam breathed, glancing at Dean.

"She shouldn't be this weak," Dean felt her forehead and shook his head. "Cas healed her. She shouldn't be heating up like this."

Sam carefully moved his arms under Y/N's legs and back, pulling her into his chest. "How about we let her sleep for a while, and see if her condition improves."

Dean shook his head again. "I don't like this..."

As Sam stood, he whispered, "It's better than before. I'll take what I can get." With Y/N's head resting on his shoulder, Sam exited the room, heading for a room that didn't have any nasty blood stains in them.

"You sure like to make a mess, don't you," Sam laughed quietly, looking into the first room they had brought her to. The blood wasn't as upsetting now that she was okay.

He kept going down the hall, eventually deciding that a room between Dean's and his own would be safest, in case she woke up in the night or called out. Thank goodness; the sheets were already laid out and the bed was made.

Sam carefully set her down as he had before; this time, tucking her under the blankets. As he stepped away from the bed, he realized when she woke up that she'd want some clean clothes. All they had were men's large...

He paused in the doorway, watching her chest rise and fall for a moment. The fact that she was breathing was enough for him. He didn't lose her. Sure, she wasn't the same girl he watched get onto that bus one year ago, but she was still Y/N. Sam smiled softly, turning out the light.


	9. Chapter 9: Twisted Nightmares

**Chapter Nine: Twisted Nightmares**

 _Reader pov_

 _Crowley lifts his angel blade to your chin. "You must be Ryan. Pleasure to meet you, after so long."_

 _You feel a drop of sweat roll off your forehead as you try to keep a poker face. "I-I'm sorry, I d-don't know what you're t-talking about."_

 _Crowley's face hardens in annoyance for a moment, before it softens into a smile. "How sweet!" He cooes, twirling a strand of your hair with the blade. If you weren't duck taped to the chair, you would've slapped him. "You have no idea what you are, do you?"_

" _L-Let me go," you manage to squeak, struggling against the restraints. This man in a funny black suit kidnapped you, and now he is asking questions that you have no idea how to BEGIN to answer._

" _Your name is Diana Ryan," he hisses, pulling the blade back. You let out a breath of relief as he continues; relieved he took the blade away, confused as to why he would think you're someone you're not. "You were adopted as an infant, and your foster parents changed your name. I guess mommy and daddy didn't tell you that, did they?"_

 _You shake your head in denial. You're NOT adopted. Your parents... You are POSITIVE they gave birth to you, and even IF you were adopted, you were old enough for them to tell you. You had already moved out for goodness sake. But, now that you had fled your hometown, you'd probably never get the chance to ask._

" _Why are you doing this?" You grunt, still struggling. "Are you trying to break me? I see through your lies."_

" _Not a lie, sweetheart," Crowley shrugs. "Shame. If you knew all that I did, this would be much more fun. Kind of ruins my whole strategy."_

 _You raise your chin in defiance. "Sorry about that. Karma's a bitch."_

" _Ooh!" Crowley acts surprised. "I don't think your father would like that language, and I know him personally. We're quite close."_

" _Are you?" You growl._

" _Okay," Crowley admits. "That was the first lie. We're not close. But I'm telling the truth about you. That's why I have you here. There's something I need from you."_

 _Your heart starts to race, certain it's not something good. You keep struggling, but tilt your head as if to ask, 'what do you want?'_

 _Crowley flashes a sinister smile. "This."_

 _Suddenly, he raises his arm and swings the angel blade, slashing your neck._

You sit up quickly in bed, your breaths almost as fast as your racing heart. It takes a minute for you to realize you are not in a cell; you are safe, in a bed. You close your eyes, letting yourself calm down. You aren't really sure where you are or how you got there, but you know you're safe. You don't even know what is real. Was that dream real? You feel your neck, but there are no cuts to indicate that it actually happened. Maybe it was your imagination. You hope so.

The smell of food pulls you out of your deep thoughts and makes your stomach growl. You can't remember the last time you ate something, so you swing your legs over the side of the bed and warily stand.

It hurts to put so much pressure on your weak body, but you manage to stumble to the door. Once you're leaning against the doorframe, you notice a chair with clothing neatly folded clothing on it. A flannel and jeans.

Assuming the gift is for you, you change into them quickly. They fit perfectly, to your surprise. It _was_ meant for you. Your hosts have good taste.

Now what? You decide to follow the scent of food down a long, cold, curving hallway. It keeps getting stronger as you wander on - making your stomach growl - until you arrive in a bigger room; a kitchen of sorts. You suddenly hear voices and press yourself against the wall, not entering the room yet. You aren't sure what you'll be walking into.

"Are you _positive_ she is still sleeping?" A deep voice asks. You recognize it instantly. Dean.

Memories flood back; being rescued, bleeding, passing out... How could you have forgotten?

"I just checked on her," Sam insisted. "Still sleeping."

Dean huffed. "No way. It's been at least a day."

"Twenty-six hours and thirty five minutes exactly, Dean," A stern, unrecognizable voice interrupts. "More than a day." Who else is in there?

"I have a scalding hot beverage here," Dean threatens. "Don't make me use it."

You take a very deep breath, gather your courage, and slowly walk into the doorway. As soon as you enter and freeze before them, all three men notice you simultaneously and turn their heads. You feel your face heat up.

Sam's face softens into a concerned smile. "You're awake."

You glance at him expressionless - probably because you were put on the spot - and then at Dean. Dean's expression is much different. He looks you up and down, his face conveying pain and sadness. You watch him gradually meet your eyes and swallow hard. You have to force yourself to look away.

The last person was Cas. He squints slightly, but other than that, he shows no feeling whatsoever, and you find yourself even more confused.

Sam clears his throat in the silence. "How are you feeling?"

You look down at your hands and then back up at him. "Where am I?"

Sam furrows his eyebrows as you avoid the question, and Dean seems to come out of his trance. "The Men of Letters bunker." He pauses. "I know that means nothing to you... It's actually just a really big, safe library."

You nod slowly, taking it in. You have many questions, but the smell of food spikes your interest again. You glance as Dean, who is holding a plate of bacon and a mug, most likely coffee.

Dean looks at you, the plate, and then you again; smiling this time. "Hungry?"

You feel a stab of pain in your chest as he asks you. It seems like years ago that you were driving in the impala...

 _After you killed Vicky, they threw you in the car and fled the scene, promising to bring you to the bus station. You had fallen asleep, and when you woke up, you sat up, catching the attention of Dean._

" _Good morning, sunshine," He had said._

 _You rolled your eyes. "What time is it?"_

" _Six-thirty," Dean replied, his bright green eyes settling on the road ahead. "Hungry?"_

You realize Dean probably didn't catch on, so you snap out of it, nod your head. "Very."

"Well, I happen to be the best chef this side of the kitchen. I won't disappoint." Dean winks at you and gestures to the table where Sam is sitting. "Have a seat."

Nothing like a little bit of humor to make you forget about all that had happened. Dean had a way of making it seem like after they left you at the bus station, you ended up here; no in between. No suffering... Still, you were going to have a _long_ talk with the Winchesters later. A _very_ long talk. For now, you just wanted to eat.

You take the seat across from Sam, putting your hands in your lap so you can't fidget. Sam smiles weakly at you again. You can tell he wants to talk to you, but you had ignored his "how are you feeling" question earlier. He probably thought you weren't in the mood.

"Chef's special, coming right up!" Dean emerges from the other side of the kitchen and sets a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast before you. It is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, it seems. "You like coffee?" Dean adds.

You vigorous nod you head, looking up at him. "Black."

Dean shrugs at your decision and moves away to heat it up. Meanwhile, you dig in, slowly biting into the warm, flavorful bacon. Your mouth waters and you close your eyes to savor every second of it. You hear Sam giggle, and you open an eye to look at him.

"When was the last time you had bacon?"

You shake your head and close your eyes again, eating the rest. _A long time ago. It had been so long since you'd eaten in general..._

Sam laughs again as Dean returns with the coffee. You open your eyes and grab the coffee from Dean's hands, pulling it close to your face as you slowly sip it. You always hated black coffee, but you _had_ to have it now. You wanted to taste something strong. This definitely did the trick.

You set down the coffee and start on your eggs, as Sam and Dean exchange a look. You shovel some more in and swallow before you speak. "You _wish_ you could eat this fast." Just as the words escape your mouth, you take another bite. Food never tasted so good.

Dean chuckles. "You're _welcome_." Out of the corner of your eye, you see him look back at Cas, and you instantly feel bad. Cas saved your life, and all you did was yell at him...

After you finish eating, you wipe your mouth. "Thank you, Dean. For the food." Dean nods. Then, you look around him to Cas. "And thank you, Cas, for the healing and stuff."

Cas shifts awkwardly in place, not expecting the comment. "You are welcome."

You yawn and rub your eyes, a sudden sleepiness coming over you. You had slept for twenty something hours, and you were still tired? Something seemed off...

Sam tilts his head. "Maybe you should get some more rest."

His hazel, concerned eyes meet with yours. You squint in challenge. "Maybe I should." He keeps his eyes on you, not sure how to react to that response. You smile genuinely. "Okay, I'm going back to bed."

Sam doesn't avert his eyes as you stand and nod to Dean. "See you in twenty-four hours, losers."

"Get outta my sight," Dean calls as you exit the room with a grin.

Once you're around the corner, however, the smile on your face fades. You can feel something inside... Something wrong. You feel weak, despite being healed, and you know that sleep isn't going to help. In fact, the last thing you want to do is go to sleep, because then you will become vulnerable to your memories again; your twisted nightmares. You can't take it.

Sam and Dean are going to want answers about the past year soon. And you're going to want them to tell you the same.

They'll have to wait. You're not ready to face what happened to you.

 _Dean pov_

Charlie.

Dean saw Charlie the moment Y/N walked into the kitchen with her clothes on. Obviously Sam had picked them because they were the only clothes in the bunker that would fit Y/N. They fit her well. Still, it took Dean a while to plaster on his smile and make Y/N feel comfortable. The wound still stung.

Dean had to sit down for a minute after she left to catch his breath. Sam kept trying to talk to him; "Do you think she's okay? Why is she so tired? Didn't Cas heal her?"

Dean didn't listen. He was thinking about similar they were... They were both girls, sure, but they were both witty, funny, caring... Maybe that's why Dean liked Y/N so much. She filled a hole in Dean's heart he didn't know he was missing.

In that moment, Dean made up his mind. He was not going to let her out of his sight. He'd go big brother mode if he had to, but he wasn't going to let Y/N get hurt ever again. He was going to protect her, provide for her, give her a "not completely terrible" life. This was his second chance.

"Dean."

Dean blinked a few times and glanced up at Sam, who was looking very annoyed. "What?"

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Sam questioned, one eyebrow raised.

Dean shook his head proudly. "Nope. I got the gist though, Sam. You're worried about her. It's normal for a guy like you to be worried about a pretty girl like her."

Sam shook his head, even more irritated. "You're a Jerk, you know that?"

Dean smirked, pleased with Sam's reaction. "Yeah, well you're a bitch, so I wouldn't be talking."

As Sam sighed deeply, Dean jumped up and started putting plates away, one by one into the sink. Cas eyed him suspiciously as he did so, standing rigid in the corner.

"You can keep checking me out," Dean cooed sarcastically, turning on the water, "Or you can grab a towel and start drying."

Cas squinted, the crease in his eyebrows deepening before he walked to Dean's side and lifted a towel. Dean grinned, grateful for the help, and started passing Cas plates. _Might as well put the angel to work if he wants to help, right?_

Dean started humming a tune, the darkness of doubt fading from the corners of his mind as he did so. He had his best friend, his brother, and even Y/N at his side, who was lucky to be alive. It was time Dean started feeling thankful for the good things in his life, and stop worrying about what he couldn't control.


	10. Chapter 10: Out of the Fire

**Chapter Ten: Out of the Fire**

 _Reader pov_

 _Your eyes snap open wide and you suck in a deep breath. A single breath turns into two, and suddenly you find yourself hyperventilating. You blink rapidly, trying to figure out where you are. You just had an awful nightmare that a mugger slit your throat..._

" _Calm down. Your breathing is annoying."_

 _You whip your head to the side and see the man in the black coat wiping off his blade. He can't really be here... He just killed you... He just slit your throat... This isn't happening..._

At the time, you had no idea what was going on. You know now that Crowley didn't want you dead. He needed you.

" _Wait," Crowley paused. "Were you not with the Winchesters a week ago?"_

 _You violently shake your head. "N-No! I don't know who they are! Please, you have to believe me!"_

It wasn't until they rescued you that you figured out who the Winchesters were.

" _Well that sure explains your lack of knowledge," Crowley groans. "Well, I'm Crowley, current king of Hell. No, I am not Satan. I'm a demon."_

 _You are shaking as you stare at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. Vicky had been a demon... This isn't real. Sam promised it wouldn't catch up with you. You had escaped..._

" _Angel blade," Crowley explains, holding up the long silver blade. "Very effective on people like you. Yes, I just slit your throat. No, you aren't dead. I healed you with my demon powers. It's more fun when you stay alive."_

" _W-what's more fun when I stay alive?" you stutter, still very confused._

" _Why, torturing you of course! Got to get the information anyway. Might as well have some fun." Crowley smiles mischievously as he spins the blade._

" _I don't know ANYTHING," you plead. "Please, please let me go!"_

 _Crowley shook his head. "I need to keep an eye on you. Your power is only going to grow."_

 _Before you knew it, Crowley was slamming the door to your cell. A door that wouldn't open again for two months. It wouldn't open even after you had screamed your throat raw. It wouldn't open more than a crack to allow you to get your food, which only occurred every now and then. You never ate much as it was, but the cell changed you. You would starve, and the door wouldn't open still. The slamming of the cell still haunts you._

Instantly, you sit up straight in bed, sweating profusely. Somehow, you had let yourself fall asleep. However scared you were, the safety of the bunker surrounds you and quickly reminds you how far you've come. The suffering is over.

Or is it? You're going to keep having nightmares for _who knows_ how long. All because you met those Winchesters. They ruined your life and scarred you; _permanently_. Fury rises in your chest.

You throw off the covers and storm out of your room. Sure, you don't know where you're going, but you're determined to find them.

You open random doors, only finding empty beds, the kitchen, a weapons closet... _How big is this place?_ You feel like you're in a maze.

You keep looking, hallway after hallway. That's when you see a light. You carefully follow it around a corner and realize it's hanging in the hallway right above a few rooms you hadn't checked. You storm up to one and bang your fist against the door.

You hear rustling, a thud, and then the door quickly opens. A frantic Sam stands before you. "Oh my god, Y/N? What's wrong?"

"You're what's wrong," you shout, jabbing his chest with your finger. "How _could_ you?"

Sam furrows his eyebrows, utterly confused, as Dean's door opens. "What's going on?" He asks groggily.

"You _lied_ to me," you snarl. "It wasn't enough for you to avoid the truth. You had to lie. You _ruined_ me. RUINED ME!"

"Just calm down-" Sam starts to say.

"Shut up! Stop trying to suppress my feelings!" you clench your fists. "You have no right to treat me like I'm weak. Not after what i've been through."

Dean steps closer. "He didn't mean that, Y/N-"

"And you!" you interrupt. "Treating me like a good friend of yours. You _DO_ realize you made me kill my best friend, right? We didn't 'bond' over that experience, Dean. So you can stop talking." You forcefully turn back to Sam. "Winchesters. I heard things, but I never thought those imbecile murderers could be you." Sam and Dean exchange a guilty look, and you continue. "Apocalypse? Leviathans? You _KILLED_ death. Not only have you ruined the world on _MULTIPLE_ occasions, but I heard you stopped exorcising demons. Too much work to _actually_ save lives, right?"

"Did Crowley tell you this?" Sam interjects defensively.

"No. _Prisoners_ told me," you snap. "Want to know where I've been the past year? On vacation. In Hell. The first few months were fine. Sure, I was starving and suffering, but he didn't torture me in the beginning. After I adjusted to my new life and became comfortable with _never seeing the light of day again_ , it wasn't that bad. It was a _living hell_ , but hey. All in a day's work, right?" You look them both up and down. "Ever been to hell?"

The boys exchange another long look before they both nod. You can see immense pain behind their eyes; not just guilt about what they let you go through, but pain of their own. They had both been to Hell. _They were in the same boat._

You try to say something like "I'm sorry, I had no idea" or "then you should understand what I'm going through and you should be more understanding," but all you manage to spit out is: "What? _Both_ of you?"

Sam inhales deeply while Dean explains. "Uh, yeah... I sold my soul, and Sam jumped into Lucifer's cage."

"Why would you do that?" _Stop talking. Stop talking..._ You're just curious and shocked.

"Dean sold his soul to bring me back from the dead," Sam replies quietly, giving his brother a look that seems like a cross between anger and compassion.

"And Sam jumped into a cage to stop the apocalypse," Dean adds, returning the look. "He was possessed by Lucifer. It was the only way to get that son of a bitch in there."

You shake your head. "How are you still alive? I mean, how did you come back?"

"Cas. The angel guy who's been around," Dean explains calmly. "Pulled me out of the fire."

You bite your lip. How could you? They were _the_ _Winchesters_. You should've assumed they had been to Hell. Why did you have to ask all those questions?

You're not satisfied, though. After a long silence, you clear your throat. "I guess you understand then, don't you." It comes out harsher than you mean. "Why I'm angry."

Sam turns to Dean before gradually looking into your eyes. "Yes."

You hold strong, not looking away. "You rescued me. I will always be grateful for that," you take a breath. "But you promised me, Sam. To my _face_ you told me it wouldn't catch up with me." Sam opens his mouth to speak, but you keep going. "You told me to do two things. First you told me to get the tattoo. I got it, I swear. It didn't stay for very long." You leave it up to Sam to figure out why. Did you _really_ have to give him the exact details of Crowley's little _games_? "What else? You told me to stay away. Never talk to anyone, including you, ever again. Never go back. Start over." A tear slides down your cheek as your raise your voice. "I started over, Sam! They found me after I had barely gotten to the coast... How did they find me? You said I would be safe... Sam, you promised me."

Sam had his mouth closed tight and his expression rigid, but you could see how hard it was for him to think about what he let you go through. Guilt.

"Am I just another girl to you?" You ask, your voice cracking. "Another girl you rescue and throw aside to be mauled by demons?"

Sam shakes his head, the first response since you started lecturing him. "Of course not," his voice pleads. "I..."

"Don't," you interrupt sharply, your eyes clouded with tears. "Don't say that you're sorry. I'm _not_ ready to accept a half-hearted apology yet."

Sam swallows hard, thinking deeply for a moment, his eyes wet and his eyebrows furrowed. "I can't apologize for what Crowley did to you. I can never take that away." You tilt your head, asking for him to continue. "But you have to believe that I thought you'd be safe. I would never wish this on you, or anyone. I... I can't undo it, but I can give you my apology and all of the time you may need. I don't expect forgiveness. I don't deserve it. But I'm here for you, Y/N, if you find a way to look past what I've done."

You look him up and down, drops running down your cheeks. He laid everything he had out in front of you, seamless, and you knew in that moment that he had been thinking about it for a long time. He had been planning his words for who knows how long. Maybe when you got off the bus. Maybe when you returned. He was hurt by your words, even if he deserved them. You didn't know what else to say to him. You couldn't forgive him - not yet - but you could offer him a second chance. He deserved that, in the very least.

Words don't work for you, so you lower your eyes and lean into him, pulling him into a hug. As you start to sob like a fool, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. You close your eyes and _swear_ that you can hear him crying a little too.

After a minute or so, you pull away, wiping your eyes and reluctantly meeting his. He smiles weakly back at you. "Can we start over?" you barely whisper.

Sam nods slowly, a bigger smile spreading across his face. "I'd like that."

You laugh gently under your breath, turning to Dean, who just witnessed the entire fight and sappy-ness... He wears a soft smile on his face as well.

"Well?" you tease Dean, "You want a hug too?"

Dean grins, spreading his arms. "Don't mind if I do."

He struts over to you - with his _stupid_ yet _adorable_ smirk - and hugs you around the shoulders, rocking you back and forth. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. "Thanks, Dean."

He squeezes your shoulders, releasing you. "Anytime. You know where to find me."

You step back, examining both boys tenderly. "Uh, sorry I exploded at you..."

Dean shrugs and Sam shakes his head. "Don't be," Sam replies.

You stand for another minute awkwardly before you speak up again. "So... I don't know how to get back, uh, to my room... I barely found my way here..."

Sam gets the hint. "Don't worry. I'll bring you back." He turns to Dean. "You can go get your beauty rest."

Dean shrugs and lumbers back to his room while Sam puts his hand on your shoulder. "This way."

You let him lead you through the maze and back to your room. You didn't speak while you wandered, but let him rest his warm, strong hand on your shoulder to guide you. Before you knew it, you were at your door.

"Well, what do ya know," you say in wonder. "We're back."

"Seems that way," Sam half-laughs, letting his arms fall to his sides.

You walk inside, looking around; just in case a demon found its way inside. You find yourself even checking under the bed. You hear Sam's footsteps as he enters behind you, opening random drawers.

"Nothing in here," he updates you, opening a closet. "Or here..."

You appreciate him going along with your stupid searching. Of course you're safe, but you want to make sure. "Good," you respond, walking toward your bed and sitting down. What if they _did_ find a way inside though? "Sam, is there _any_ possible way a demon get in here? In the bunker?"

He spins in a circle, making sure he checked every corner. "No way. You're absolutely safe."

You sit cross-legged on your bed. "The warding. I forgot."

Sam laughs softly, not meeting your eyes. "Yeah. It's pretty high tech. I think it's incredible."

Eventually, you shift and slide your legs under the covers, laying down all the way. Sam looks over and smiles weakly. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N," he says, backing away. "That is, if you don't sleep for a hundred years..."

You force out a little chuckle, but as Sam starts to close the door and the darkness fills the room, you start to panic, sitting up. "Sam, wait!" You couldn't stop yourself.

Sam slowly opens the door, tilting his head in concern. You take in a shaky breath. _Don't. You'll be fine._ You don't want to have another dream, because you know that they're really memories. That really happened to you. It's terrifying.

You clear your throat. "I... I know they're just dreams... I mean... I know I'm safe..."

Sam steadily enters the room, closing the door behind him and turning on a lamp. He walks past your bed, pulling a blanket off the top of a cabinet, and walking to your side. He says nothing as he sits beside your bed, his back against the frame. Suddenly, his sonorous voice cuts through the silence. "Is it alright if I stay here?"

You pause, listening to the sound, before nodding. After a second, you realize he can't see you nodding, so you vocalize, "Yeah... Yes..."

Sam takes a deep breath. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You breathe deep as well, grateful you didn't have to ask him for anything. He knew what you needed. "Goodnight, Sam." You lay down, turning on your side so you are facing him, even though his back is turned. You smile softly as you drift to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11: The Outside World

**Chapter Eleven: The Outside World**

 _Dean pov_

Dean had to admit, living in the bunker with a girl was weird for a while; especially when that girl was Y/N.

There were the things he would've had to deal with if it were anyone staying with them; the annoyance of always running out of food, the self consciousness of singing in the shower (every shower was a gamble as to whether Dean would risk it), he couldn't get drunk whenever he wanted, and he couldn't leave for long periods of time with Sam on hunting trips. It was these things that made him appreciate Cas, who never ate and barely bothered Dean.

Then there were the things he would've had to deal with if it were any random girl; his "special" magazines had to go into a locked drawer so they would be safe and unseen by innocent eyes, he had to share the bathroom, and he had to make extra trips to collect things at the store - whether that be feminine products or clothes. (Dean bought Y/N a sweatshirt and called it good. He refused to go bra shopping even if his life depended on it.)

Finally, there were the little things he had to deal with that only Y/N brought to the table; uncertainty, stress, and - though Dean would never admit it aloud - happiness. Her presence made him feel like he had accomplished something. He had saved her life. Not to mention, Y/N was pretty funny too. Every conversation with her was meaningful and made Dean smile, laugh, or feel even closer to her. But those were only the parts that resulted in Dean's good spirits. Y/N also pushed uncertainty and stress onto him.

She wasn't bad company or selfish. In fact, Dean was convinced nothing was her fault. Still, the fact that Crowley captured her confused Dean. Y/N was ordinary in every way; so what was the demon's reasoning? There was also the uncertainty of how she would act day to day, particularly because she was fragile after all the time she spent in Hell. It was much longer than Dean had been in Hell, and Dean had been introduced to the concept of the supernatural way sooner than Y/N. She was pushed into it too soon with no time to grasp it.

Thus, with Dean's constant worrying about Y/N, he carried the burden of continual stress. It was hard enough worrying about Cas and Sam all the time, but now there was this broken girl thrown into his life, and Dean had no idea what to do. There would be days she didn't leave her room, leaving Dean to wonder if he should bother her and make sure she was okay. Sometimes she wouldn't eat or talk and would stare into nothingness for hours.

Almost every night she cried out in her sleep, and Dean had trouble getting rest because of it. He would jump up to check on her, but Sam would already be running down the hall. Occasionally, she wouldn't cry out, and Dean eventually learned it was because Sam slept on the floor of her room to keep her company. On those days, Dean still woke up in the early hours, expecting her to need his help.

There was even a time when she dropped a mirror on the concrete bathroom floor, and Dean found her poking the tip of her finger with the glass to see if she could feel something. Incidents like those worried Dean the most.

After the first month or so, things evened out. She slept better, she ate better, she acted healthier overall. Sam and Dean trusted her to be alone for - at the most - two days at a time while they went hunting. She still refused to leave the bunker though, regardless of the situation. She felt safer inside its walls. Dean understood what that was like.

Dean also started to notice little things blossoming between Y/N and himself, Sam, and even Cas. Dean tried his best to keep Y/N distracted and entertained, teaching her pool or letting her help work on his car - key word being "help" - which seemed to do the trick. He considered Y/N less of a little sister or a roommate and more of a friend as time went on. (Again, if you asked about these mushy feelings, he would shut you down). Somehow, even though he was extremely protective of her, he managed to win her favor.

Meanwhile, Y/N started to grow fond of Cas. Once she learned that he wasn't that bad, they got along well. They shared a hug when he arrived to check on how everyone was doing, and sometimes he brought her gifts. Of course, his gifts would a dandelion or something completely random that made no sense whatsoever... Y/N loved them nonetheless. There was a time when Sam and Dean returned from a hunt to find Y/N asleep, her head resting in Cas' lap. _"She was scared, Dean," Cas explained quietly, almost as if he would get in trouble for letting her sleep there._ Dean refused to leave her for a week after that. He had assumed her nightmares were over, and didn't want to make that mistake again.

Then there was Sam. At first, Dean barely noticed anything between Sam and Y/N - at least, nothing more than what Dean had with her - but as the weeks went by, Dean started to notice. It was little things that only Dean - being Sam's brother and all - would notice. The glances they exchanged, the hugs that lingered just a bit longer, even the way their hands would brush up against each other when they were sitting side by side. Of course, Dean pretended not to notice, but the signs only became more clear. Dean wasn't good at reading Y/N's emotions, but he could tell that Sam was falling hard for her; even if his brother hadn't noticed yet.

One month faded into two, and Y/N became even more stable, only waking once a week with nightmares; even if she was still very weak. Dean couldn't remember a time when she wasn't around. She was family now.

Despite all her progress, however, Y/N still wasn't ready to step foot outside. Dean did his best to accommodate for that, sharing with her what the outside world was like and bringing her whatever she asked for, which wasn't much. He could tell how much she longed to see the outside world, and tried to convince her it was safe.

It wasn't until three months had gone by, when it was pouring rain, that Y/N went outside.

Dean opened his eyes, rubbing away the sleep. The rain had woken him and he decided, since he was up, he might as well check on Y/N. When he didn't find her in her room, he searched around for a while, starting to grow worried. A crack of lightning made Dean look up and realize the door in the war room was open.

Dean sprinted up the stairs, bursting outside into the storm. He was soaked as soon as he exited, and as he continued to be doused, he saw Y/N sitting outside in the middle of the dirt road, looking up into the sky. He approached her cautiously.

"Dean," she shouted over the rain. Dean had no idea how she heard him coming, but kept walking to her. She was still looking at the sky, but as he neared, Dean realized her eyes were closed. "I need to tell you something."

Dean stood at her side, trying to see what she was looking at. "You finally came out."

"That's what I need to talk to you about," she said shakily, opening her eyes. "Crowley threatened to take me back as soon as I set foot outside." Dean offered his hand, and Y/N used it to pull herself up. "What do you know about demon powers?"

Dean was confused as she seemed to be on twelve different pages at once. "Woah, what are you talking about? One thing at a time."

She pushed back her drenched hair, starting again. "I feel like something is wrong with me, Dean."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Nothing is wrong with you," he said harshly.

"The very first time I saw Crowley," she continues, dissatisfied with Dean's answer, "he slit my throat. Did you know that?" Dean shook his head, but said nothing. He was going to _kill_ Crowley for hurting her. As he blinked away the rain that settled on his lashes, Y/N bit her lip. "He healed me afterward but something was... different. I feel like he took something from me. My soul, maybe? Is that why I'm so weak?"

Dean shook his head again. "Trust me, I would know if your soul was missing." The wind started to howl in Dean's ears as he took Y/N by the arm. "Let's go inside."

"Something doesn't feel right," Y/N looked around as if she were being watched, pulling herself away from Dean's grasp.

Dean was starting to worry. "This way," he said as he tugged her to the door.

Just as he set foot inside, he felt her tug away from his clutch. "Y/N," he started to plead, turning around to see where she had run off to. But she wasn't there. He walked out of the entrance, calling again, "Y/N, please come inside..."

As he spun in circles in the pouring rain, he began to realize she wasn't anywhere. She wasn't fast enough to already be out of sight either. How did she... "Y/N? Y/N!" He shouted her name several times into the wind, but she was gone without a trace. She had vanished into thin air. Dean had lost her.


	12. Chapter 12: Gone

**Chapter Twelve: Gone**

 _Dean pov_

Dean was sprinting down the hall - leaving puddles of water wherever he stepped - when he ran into Sam. Dean slowed to a stop and tried to speak, but Sam interrupted too quickly.

"Dean," Sam uttered, a smile spreading onto his face. "I have to talk to you about something."

"Me too," Dean huffed, "and I don't think this can wait."

Sam was about to continue with his own agenda when he noticed how wet and panicked Dean was, the smile fading from his face. "What? What is it?"

Dean shook his head, hoping that Sam would mistake the wetness in his eyes as rain. "It's Y/N-" Dean choked on his works when he saw the light fade from Sam's eyes. Sam didn't even know what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good. "She's gone."

"Gone?" Sam spat, his eyebrows furrowed. "Gone where?"

"I don't know," Dean put his hands on his head. "She outside one second, and gone the next-"

"She was outside?" Sam shouted. "You let her go outside _alone_?"

Dean let his hands fall to his sides, becoming defensive. "You know I can't control her! And I was out there, trying to get her to come back inside, but then she was just gone-"

Sam suddenly pushed past Dean, running toward the door. Dean tried to stop him - tell him it was no use; he had already tried that - but Sam was fast. He was shouting out in the rain before Dean could get a word in.

He felt useless, hopeless, and guilty. Y/N was gone to _chuck knows where_ , and it was all Dean's fault. In his flaming anger, Dean let out a shout and swung his fist at the wall.

Just as his fist was about to make contact, Cas appeared with his arm extended, and Dean's fist connected with the angel's palm. Surprisingly, Cas grabbed it, absorbing the force without even feeling it.

"Hello, Dean," he muttered, releasing Dean's hand and tilting his head. "Why are you angry?"

It took Dean a minute to catch up. Cas had just appeared out of nowhere... "Cas... Y/N is gone." Cas squinted in confusion, so Dean went on. "She was outside, and then she wasn't, and I lost her, I don't know where she is, Sam is looking for her, but it's hopeless, because she vanished, and-"

"Dean," Cas interrupted. "We will find her."

"Cas," Dean shouted back. "What part of vanished and lost do you not understand? She is _gone_. I'm willing to bet that Crowley or some demon took her."

Cas nodded. "I understand, Dean. I will find her. I pulled you from Hell. I can do the same for her."

Dean wanted to argue, but Cas had a point. He just had to have hope. "Thanks, Cas."

Cas nodded, lingering for a moment before disappearing. Dean waited for him go before continuing to wander down the hallway. He didn't feel the urge to punch anything anymore. He just wanted to be alone. This was all his fault.

 _Sam pov_

" _Okay, your turn," Y/N whispers, sitting with her legs crossed._

 _Sam looked to the floor before making eye contact again. "Why were you called Ryan by Crowley?"_

 _Y/N hadn't been able to sleep one night, so she and Sam went into the library and hid between two of the bookshelves, taking turns sharing stories and asking questions. It often helped Y/N feel sleepier, and Sam didn't mind._

" _Well..." she started._

" _You don't have to tell me," Sam murmured. "You never have to tell me anything."_

 _Y/N's tense expression softened and she looked into Sam's eyes, smiling. "Thank you. But I think I can tell you this one."_

 _Sam nodded. "Then I'm all ears."_

 _Y/N tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "My real name is Diana Ryan. I was adopted as an infant and my parents changed my name to what it is now."_

 _Sam tilted his head, listening intently. "So, which one is your name?"_

 _She gave him a confused look. "What? They both are."_

 _Sam laughed quietly. "I guess I mean... Are you Diana, or are you Y/N?"_

 _Y/N studied him carefully before echoing, "Y/N. I was never really Diana."_

" _That's good," Sam bit his lip, his face feeling hot. "Y/N is a beautiful name."_

"Y/N!" Sam shouted, his voice stinging as rain pattered down all around him. He could barely see; the rain was so thick and heavy, soaking him. "Where are you? Y/N!"

 _Sam knocked twice before slowly opening Y/N's door. She was sitting on her bed, eyebrows raised. "Hey, Sam."_

" _Hey, I just wanted to let you know that Dean is going out right now to get chinese," he informed her. "Just so you know where he is. I hope you're hungry, because Dean goes all out."_

 _Y/N tilted her head. "So Dean is leaving?"_

 _Sam squinted slightly. "Yes..."_

 _Her face lit up. "Sweet! Get in here!"_

 _Sam was very confused and flustered, hoping she didn't notice how red is face probably was as he slipped into her room. Was he reading into this too much? What did she want? His stomach was doing flips._

 _He slowly walked to her side as she continued on. "Not that I want Dean to be gone, necessarily, but this gives us some time alone." Sam's heart was racing. What did she just say?_

" _Sit," she commanded, pointing at the floor next to her bed. Sam did as he was told, sitting before her and looking up, still very stunned. "Turn around," she said next, making a twirling motion with her finger. Again, Sam moved as she directed so that his back was to her._

" _I have always wanted to braid your hair, so if you don't mind..."_

 _Sam let out a very quiet sigh of relief. He made a big deal out of a little situation. She just wanted to play with his hair, and didn't want to embarrass him in front of Dean. He was actually very appreciative of that. "Have at it," he replied, sitting up straighter. He should've known._

 _Y/N ran her nimble fingers through his hair, gentling braiding from the very top. The motion was almost enough to put Sam to sleep._

"Please," Sam pleaded, running around the outside of the bunker, rain still splashing down. Thunder rumbled above in the darkening sky. "Please, Y/N! Come back to me! Y/N!"

" _A hunt has never gone worse in all my life!" Dean shouted, storming into the bunker and down the stairs. "I can't believe this."_

 _Sam followed, very distraught as well. Dean threw down their bags, groaning. "I'm going to try and fix that dent in Baby."_

 _As Sam entered the war room, he watched his brother rush off, and barely heard him shout, "those sons of bitches are gonna pay for hurting Baby!"_

 _Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw movement, and turned to see Y/N peeking out of the library._

" _Sam," she called quietly. "What happened?"_

 _Sam brushed off some of the dirt that was on his shirt and approached her. "Rougarou... It didn't go so well."_

 _As he came up to Y/N - who was on the steps above him and therefore was as tall as he was - she furrowed her eyebrows._

 _Sam tilted his head, stopping a foot away. "What?"_

 _She didn't say a word, but reached out and gently touched Sam's forehead with two fingers. He froze, staring into her eyes, even though she wasn't looking back at him. She pulled away, showing Sam the blood._

" _Oh," he muttered, a bit distracted, "that happened too."_

 _She frowned sympathetically and took his hand, pulling him toward the hallway. He blinked a few times and didn't move at first, but then he started to follow, staring down at her little hand in his._

 _Soon Y/N was pulling him into the bathroom and sitting him down on the edge of the tub. Sam didn't want to disturb her; she looked focused. She ran a cloth under the sink and returned to him, standing between his legs so she could reach his forehead._

 _It stung slightly as she dabbed the cut, but Sam was too distracted, staring into her eyes again. She looked so determined to fix him, and she was so close, he felt like her warmth was radiating onto him._

 _When she finished, she slowly lowered the cloth and looked down at Sam, realizing he was staring at her. He felt his face heat up, but didn't move his gaze like he normally would. Y/N blushed a little too, her face conveying no emotion as far as Sam could tell. They were just gazing at one another._

 _Then, she reached out and brushed her fingers against the side of his face, sending sparks flying throughout his body. Somehow, when she smiled at him, he managed to blush even more._

" _I'm glad you're okay," she barely whispered, and Sam could've sworn she was moving a little closer, or that she glanced down at his lips, but he was so flustered he couldn't tell. He moved a little closer too._

 _Suddenly, Dean yelled, and it sounded like he had gotten hurt. Y/N whipped her head toward the noise._

 _Sam's heart sank a little inside him, but he offered, "we should go check on him."_

 _Y/N looked back and nodded, grabbing a new cloth and hurrying out of the room. Sam watched her run off in a daze, her hair swishing behind her._

 _Sam didn't feel like she wanted to escape from him, he knew she was worried about Dean. But he had to sit there for a while, still going over what had just happened. Was he reading into it again? One thing was for certain; he felt something deeper for her. He didn't know what that meant just yet, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going down the path he was headed._

Sam had circled the building two or three times, finding no hints to her disappearance whatsoever. The rain was starting to give him chills, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. "Y/N! Please!"

 _Sam was woken from his deep sleep by the sound of faint whimpering. He sat up from his pile of blankets on the floor and turned to Y/N's bed. Sure enough, she was fast asleep, but she was twisting and turning, tears rolling down her cheeks. Sam quickly pushed off his blankets and came to her side, touching her shoulder gently._

 _She jolted awake, breathing heavily. At first she thought she was still stuck in her nightmare, but then she recognized that she was safe, her breath slowly calming. She was still shaking, but she wiped away her tears and muttered, "I'm sorry I woke you."_

" _That's what I'm here for," Sam replied quietly, pulling his hand away. "Do you think you can fall back asleep?"_

 _She hesitated, but responded, "Yes. I'm fine now."_

 _Sam nodded and returned to his spot the floor, listening to her sheets rustle as she laid back down. Sam made himself comfortable and closed his eyes, hoping he could fall back asleep too._

 _For a while it was silent, only the sound of Y/N's breaths filling the room, but eventually, Sam heard her clear her throat. He opened his eyes and turned to her, noticing that she was awake and staring at the ceiling._

" _S-Sam?" she called out quietly._

 _Sam studied her face carefully. "Yeah?"_

" _Can you..." she paused, swallowing. "Can you just... Come up here?"_

 _Sam furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what she meant. Did she want him to lean against the bed like he used to, so that he was closer? He sat up, scooting over to her side._

 _She turned to face him, her face showing Sam how scared she actually was. Her eyes were pleading and she was biting her lip._

" _Here?" Sam asked, doing his best to do what she wanted._

 _She shook her head, sitting up and moving to the far side if the bed. Sam suddenly understood what she was implying, and nodded, slowly raising himself up and onto the bed. He sat back against the bed frame and held out his arms, letting Y/N lay her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled the blanket over her, trying to make her comfortable. He could tell that she was, because she soon was fast asleep._

 _Meanwhile, Sam's stomach was doing flips as he stroked her soft hair. He couldn't deny it anymore; he was falling in love with her. He wanted to resist it, because it never worked out for him - he always had to leave them behind due to his hunter lifestyle - but he needed Y/N in his life. She filled an empty place inside him and made him happier. He wasn't about to give that up._

"Y/N!" Sam shouted, thunder cracking above him. "Y/N, please! I need you to come back to me! Don't leave me like this!" He spun in a circle. "Y/N!"

"Sammy!" Dean hollered over the rain from somewhere behind Sam. "Come inside before you get sick or something. Cas is looking for her."

Sam turned to his brother, who had wandered out into the rain to find him, and was now equally wet. "I'm not giving up on her, Dean."

"I know you aren't," Dean stated. "But right now, getting soaked isn't going to help find her. Come inside."

Sam looked around one last time to check for her, then animusly following Dean back into the bunker. He could never really argue with Dean. Besides, he was colder than he wanted to admit. He just hoped Cas would hurry up and find her already.

Later, after Sam and Dean were dry and had been sitting around in the war room for a few hours, Dean finally spoke up.

"What did you want to tell me earlier?" he asked, spinning anxiously in his chair to occupy himself.

Sam rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and set his head on top of it, muttering, "What are you talking about?"

Dean crossed his arms, leaning back. "In the hallway. When I told you she was gone."

Sam finally caught up. "Oh," he whispered, "I just wanted to ask you for advice."

Dean raised his eyebrows, sitting up straight. "Advice?" he looked shocked, yet pleased. "From me?"

"Shut up," Sam groaned, the tips of his mouth turning up into a smile.

"About what?" Dean questioned persistently, leaning forward onto the table. "If it's your hair, I think you should definitely cut it. It's about time."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean scoffed back. "Tell me."

Sam covered his face, mumbling, "It was about Y/N."

Dean laughed, pounding his fist on the table. "I knew it! Hah!"

"Shut UP," Sam groaned louder, blushing. "This is why I don't come to you for advice."

"No, wait," Dean cleared his throat. "I'm serious now. I'll be mature. Please tell me."

Sam let out a deep sigh, peeking up from his hands. Dean looked ready to listen, a steady expression across his face. Sam decided he didn't have anything to lose; Dean wasn't going to give up, and he was probably never going to see Y/N ever again, so this is pointless anyway...

"I haven't felt this way in a long time," he blurted. "I don't know what to do..."

Dean raised a brow, smirking. "Go on."

Sam shook his head. "I'm not good at figuring out if she feels the same way, or how _I_ even feel, or if I _should_ be doing anything, or if I'm reading into it-"

"Easy there, tiger," Dean interrupted, pausing for a moment. "How _do_ you feel?"

Sam made a face. "I told you. I don't know."

"Or maybe," Dean speculated, "you don't want to admit how you feel."

Sam squinted, about to protest, but he closed his mouth to think. Maybe Dean had a point. Maybe Sam was not letting his deeper feelings bubble up, out of fear that he - or Y/N - would end up hurt. Maybe it was time he admitted them.

"I don't know..." Sam hesitated.

"I'm not going to judge you. I already know how you feel." Dean crossed his arms again, taking a serious stance. "I just want you to say it. Say it out loud."

Sam sighed, slowly meeting Dean's eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with her."

"Good!" Dean laughed. "Now you just have to tell _her_ that. Based on what I've seen... She feels the same way. Besides, who wouldn't love a _cute little guy_ like you?"

"Dude," Sam groaned, shutting him up. "Forget it. It doesn't matter now," he sighed. "She's gone."

Dean became stern. "When we get her back, you tell her. Got it?"

"She's gone! We don't know where to even _start_ looking!" Sam shouted back. How could Dean say that so easily?

"There's a reason I said 'when'," Dean stated coldly. " _When_ we get her back. We're going to find her."


	13. Chapter 13: Real

**Chapter Thirteen: Real**

 _Reader pov_

Darkness. Panic sets in.

"Hello, Y/N," a deep, raspy voice calls suddenly. "Or should I say, Diana?"

You can't tell where the noise is coming from, but you know you are hanging upside down, tied around the legs. Your arms hang below your head. Who is speaking?

"It took you awhile."

You know he, whoever he is, isn't human, because a human wouldn't know your real name. Is it an angel? A demon? The voice is familiar, but it's getting mixed up in your head. What's happening? You feel so drowsy...

"Now that I have you here, the fun can REALLY begin."

 _Dean pov_

"Get the _hell_ out of here if you're not going to help us," Dean growls. "We don't have time for you to get in our way."

Cas narrows his eyes in response, stepping closer. "I'm not trying to stop you, Dean. I'm trying to warn you that something isn't right."

Dean wasn't having it. "Who gives _you_ the right to decide if we back off? We are going to keep looking, threat or not. I don't care if it destroys the 'cosmic balance' or any of that crap. We are going to find her."

"I want to find her as much as you, Dean," Cas states coldly, "but we just need to be careful."

"Careful!" Dean scoffs. "Careful? We've been _careful_ for six months, and look where it got her! Kidnapped. And maybe even killed." Dean shakes his head, biting his lip. "Sam has been pacing for three weeks, Cas. We need her back, and we need her back _now_. I don't know how much more waiting we can take."

Cas hesitates slightly. "I know, Dean. I have tried locating her. She is being hidden." He looks away for a moment. "Angel radio has been very active lately, discussing a growing power of sorts... I can feel it. I feel like it might be bigger than what we-"

"Hold it right there," Dean snaps. "Bigger? More important, you mean, than finding her. Is that what you're telling me, Cas?"

Cas closes his eyes and shakes his head in frustration. "I will keep looking."

And with that, the angel was gone. Dean didn't even have time to do his usual, "Cas!" into the wind either, because Sam came up right behind him.

"What did he mean by growing power?" Sam asked, making Dean jump.

Dean turned around to face his little brother, who looked worse than the day before. His eyes were always red nowadays, but today the bags underneath them made it look like he hadn't slept in at least 24 hours, maybe more.

"I guess he means something like an angel, or a demon, or some other crap is either coming into being or is becoming more powerful," he responded.

"And he has nothing on Y/N?" Sam questioned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dean cleared his throat. "Uh... No."

"Alright then," Sam nods his head, standing up a little straighter. "Let's go find whatever is producing that power."

"Whoa, whoa," Dean interrupted, trying to get the attention of his brother who was walking away. "For _weeks_ you haven't wanted to leave. Now, all of a sudden, you want to give up and move on?"

"I'm not giving up, Dean," Sam snapped, suddenly spinning around and coming nose to nose with his brother. "But we can't just sit here and wait for her. If we're out there, looking for whatever this is, we might find something that can help us find her." He took a breath. "Besides, I can't spend another day in here. It reminds me too much of her."

Dean pondered for a moment. Sam had a point. _It would be nice to get out of here and let Sam get distracted for a while..._ What did they have to lose?

"Alright," Dean agreed. "Deal. But we're going to need something to locate what we're looking for while Cas is away."

Already, Dean could tell Sam was emerging from the clouds that had fogged his mind. "I think I read a spell about that..." Sam ran off toward the library.

Dean smiled to himself for a moment, glad to have his brother back, before he strutted after him. "Wait up!"

 _Sam pov_

"Well that was anticlimactic," Dean groaned, speeding up as he turned onto the highway. The impala's engine muffled as the radio quietly played _Midnight Rider._ Very fitting, since it was practically that time of night.

"Well, I mean, what did you expect to happen?" Sam held a compass flat in his hand, watching the needle flicker back and forth.

"Remember that time my finger was a tracking device?" Dean recalls, sitting back. "That was more exciting than some _random_ compass."

"This compass, Dean, is pointing in the direction of the force Cas was talking about," Sam mocked flatly. "Would you rather have a gem that glows the closer we get? Because we'd never know when it was at full capacity. A compass may not be fun, but it's very effective."

Dean shook his head. "Okay, nerd, we got'cha. It's just been a few hours. That compass doesn't tell us how close we are."

Sam nodded in agreement, still staring at the compass. Suddenly, the needle jerked to the right. Sam pointed in the same direction, yelling, "Take that right! There!"

Dean cursed and whipped the wheel, nearly bumping into another car as he sped onto the exit, still cursing as he came to a sudden stop at a red light that met them at the end of the exit.

"Come on, Sam!" Dean huffed. "Maybe a warning next time?"

Sam raised a brow. "I can't control this thing, Dean! We just have to go where it takes us." He checked the compass. "In this case, we go left."

Dean mumbled something under his breath as he turned left, coasting down the road. Sam watched the compass slowly turn to the left, and commanded his brother to turn left at the next stop.

"Something about this whole thing feels familiar," Dean whispered, as Sam told him to take another left. "You know?"

"I don't know what you mean," Sam stated. "And go left again."

Dean cranked the wheel and ran through a red light. "Oops."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Try to _not_ get us arrested for something stupid, Dean. Go left up here again."

"Why don't _you_ try driving sometime," Dean snapped. "You'd see how _easy_ it is."

Sam groaned. "You would never let me do that."

"I know, but you know what I mean."

"Left," Sam instructed, ignoring his brother.

"Dude, I think your compass is broken," Dean stated. "This is, what, the fifth left we have taken?"

"It's not broken! It's a spell, Dean!" Sam said defensively.

"Wait," Dean looked around. "We're the circling this block..."

Sam jerked his head in the direction of the block they had been circling, and there, in the middle, was a warehouse surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. They _had_ been circling it. He just hadn't noticed.

"We found it," Sam uttered, disbelieving, slowly lowering the compass. "It actually worked."

Dean circled the building again - until they came to the gate opening - and pulled into the compound. There were street lamps lighting the way as Dean drove into the shadows to conceal the impala. He shut off the engine to keep it quiet.

"Now what?" Sam asked, clutching the compass tightly. I was pointing directly at the building.

Dean shoved the keys in his pocket. "We investigate."

Sam watched his brother exit the vehicle and open the trunk, grabbing the weapons duffle bag. Despite being nervous, Sam ran to catch up with Dean as he strutted toward a back door.

"I'm telling you, this is familiar," Dean mumbled, tossing Sam a gun. "Devil's trap bullets. Shoot first, questions later. You got me?"

Sam nodded. Dean pulled out an angel blade and slung the bag over his shoulder, quickly opening the door and entering. Sam was close behind.

It was familiar. Although this was a different warehouse, it was remarkably similar to the one they found Y/N in. The ceiling was high above them, the room was wide and empty - except for some crates along the walls - and the lights were dim. Dean scanned the room while Sam tried to focus. _Y/N is gone. Stop thinking about her._

"So much for _great power_ ," Dean groaned, pacing to the center of the room. "It's empty."

Sam followed. "Maybe we're in the wrong place." He holstered his gun - which was actually just tucking it in his waistband - and pulled the compass from his pocket, staring down at the needle. It was pointing right at him. "We just need to look around a little."

If the needle was pointing at him, maybe he missed something. Sam turned around to retrace their steps, his eyes still down on the needle.

Suddenly, in his peripheral vision ahead of him, Sam thought he saw movement. He jerked his head up.

Sure enough, before him in the dark, she was standing rigid and emotionless. She was barefoot with tangled hair and ripped clothing. Her eyes were glazed over, unseeing.

Sam tried to form words, but all he could do was pinch himself. _You're dreaming._ In fact, he was so convinced he was dreaming, that he pinched the palm of his hand until it bled. When he felt the warm blood on his fingertips, he knew it was real. But it couldn't be.

Dean stumbled to Sam's side with his mouth hanging open.

"Is this real, Dean?" Sam breathed, tightly gripping the compass. He had been tricked with memories before by djinn and Lucifer himself. He wasn't about to give in to a hoax.

"You're really here, Sam," Dean assured him. Sam thought is sounded like Dean was trying to convince himself.

The older brother grabbed Sam's shoulder, grounding him. If he could feel Dean, he knew Dean was real. And if Dean was real, that meant the girl before him was real too. It took Sam a few minutes to even open his mouth, let alone form words.

"Y/N?"

She had been staring straight ahead, but now her cold, empty eyes settled on Sam. As soon as she did, he could feel there was something off about her. Not just how stiff she was, or how vacant of emotion... Something stronger.

"What's wrong with her?" Dean whispered, slowly lowering his arm from Sam's shoulder.

Sam wasn't sure what was worse; seeing Y/N like this - practically a zombie, purblind - or watching Crowley emerge from the darkness behind her moments later.

"Hello, boys," the demon hissed, walking to her side with confidence. Y/N didn't flinch or acknowledge his presence.

"Crowley," Dean snarled back, clutching the angel blade. "What did you do to her?"

"I made her whole again," he snapped back at Dean, looking him up and down. Then, he turned to Y/N, whispering loud enough for the boys to hear. "You're up, sweetie."

For a moment, nothing happened. Y/N simply stared into Sam's eyes, unmoving. Crowley snarkily backed away.

Then, when Sam least expected it, Y/N's eyes started to glow. It looked to be a reflection of light at first, but soon it was clear they were producing the light. She gradually began to puff out her chest and clench her fists.

"Dean..." Sam murmured, starting to back away.

Dean was slowly backpedaling too.

Y/N's eyes remained locked on Sam's as her entire body became even brighter.

"Dean..." Sam muttered again, starting to move faster.

He could barely believe his eyes as her light shone around him. And, although he was squinting, he could make out the shadow - against the far wall - of huge, feathery wings spreading in defense.


	14. Chapter 14: Lights Out

**Chapter Fourteen: Lights Out**

 _Dean pov_

The blinding light radiating from Y/N forced Dean to cover his eyes with his forearm and stumble backward. He reached for Sam's arm in an attempt to pull him away; the younger brother frozen in shock.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, finally making contact with Sam's arm. "Come on!"

Sam blinked before he came back to reality, looking at Dean with wide eyes, despite the white light. It broke Dean's heart to see his little brother looking at him the way he was; Sam wanted to stay.

"She's possessed, Sam!" Dean yelled, grabbing Sam's shoulders and shaking him. His brother shook like a ragdoll, a tear rolling off his cheek. _Now is not the time..._ "We have to g-"

Before Dean could finish, a force knocked into him, throwing him across the room. He landed on his shoulder with a loud pop, rolling into a shelf, which fell on top of him. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Sam smacking to the ground as well.

He called out, barely able to assess his pain as adrenaline pulsed through his veins. It took him a few seconds to realize Y/N had blew him away with her angel powers.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, struggling to move the shelf. "Are you good?"

"Dean! Watch out!"

Dean whipped his head around just as the shelf was hurled off him to reveal Y/N towering above him. She wore the same expression that all angels wore before they smite their enemies - Dean knew it well - but he wasn't about to let it happen. He nimbly rolled away as she came down at him.

"Who are you?" Dean growled once on his feet. _Why would Y/N let an angel inside? Did Crowley make her? And who is it?_

Y/N slowly stood, dusting off her knees, returning to her threatening stance. "I'm the one who is going to kill you."

One flick of her wrist, and Dean flew back into another wall, smacking his head so hard that he was knocked out cold.

 _Sam pov_

Sam hastily jumped up just as Dean was rendered unconscious.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, his voice cracking in fear. Was his brother dead?

Y/N heard Sam's cry and snapped her head in Sam's direction, her dead eyes making Sam's stomach drop. He started to back away once more.

"Y/N," he pleaded. "I know you're in there somewhere."

"Shut up!" she screamed back, suddenly thrusting her arm out at him so that he fell back onto the ground.

He tried to move, but she was too quick, jumping onto him before he could escape.

"Y/N-" he attempted, cut off as her fist connected with his jaw. Pain shot through his body as she punched him again, and again, and again.

He croaked for her to stop, but she wasn't slowing down, and she wasn't killing him; she was taking her time. Soon, his face became bloody and numb, and he was floating on the edge of consciousness.

Just when he thought it'd be lights out, Y/N stopped.

Sam slowly opened his eyes, which were starting to swell, looking up at her. He was too weak to fight back, to tired to resist.

"Y/N," he wheezed, looking into her eyes. He couldn't see any sign of life in them, but he remembered what it was like to look into hereyes when she _was_ there. She was still beautiful. She was still Y/N, somewhere. "Y/N, I'm not going to hurt you."

She screamed back at him in return, punching his face again.

Sam didn't let that stop him. It took him a few seconds to turn his head and look back up at her, but he wasn't done.

"I'm not going to leave you."

He was hit even harder that time, splotches scattered in his vision. He pulled his heavy head up again, barely keeping his eyes open.

"No matter what you do to me."

She punched his jaw again.

"I know... I know this isn't you."

She grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up and slamming his head down again. This time, Sam held up his hands, shielding his face. Y/N coldly looked him over, waiting for him to make a move.

"Listen to me," he managed to rasp. "It's okay. It's not your fault." Y/N grabbed both of Sam's wrists, pinning him down again. "This isn't you." She pressed the palm of her hand against Sam's forehead, scowling. Sam reached up, holding Y/N's wrist. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Stop talking," she suddenly snapped, pressing her hand harder against his face. "Stop it."

"I'm not talking to you," Sam growled, pausing to cough weakly. "I'm talking to Y/N."

Y/N - whoever it was - scoffed, narrowing her eyes. "You can't save yourself."

Sam slowly closed his eyes, a tear rolling off his cheek. He took a deep breath, still holding Y/N's wrist. "It's... It's okay."

He gradually opened his heavy eyelids, staring up at Y/N for what he knew would be the last time. He hoped that, wherever she was, she was safe. He hoped she couldn't see this; couldn't see herself doing this to him.

A wave of emotion washed over Sam as he took in her beauty. Even like this - a brutal, killing machine - she was gorgeous. He wished he had gotten the chance to tell her that in person.

Y/N pressed her hand harder into his forehead, bringing him back. Sam knew he didn't have much longer, but he wasn't afraid. He always knew that one day, a hunt would go wrong, and this would happen.

He took a final glance before he closed his eyes and croaked, "I love you."

Sam's head was pounding as he waited to be burned to death. He waited so long that started to wonder if he had already died, and he just hadn't felt it. Was death peaceful? He'd died plenty of times, but maybe it only hurt because he was trying to hold on to any glimpse of life that was left. This time, he was ready to die. He was okay with it.

Was it already over?

Sam carefully let his eyes flutter open, prepared to see a bright light before him - the light of death - despite never walking into it before. But it wasn't what he saw. He saw Y/N above him her beautiful hair framing her face, her eyes glistening with tears. This time, she could _see_ Sam. Sam could see something deeper behind her eyes than what he had seen before. She was _so_ beautiful, and he felt _so_ safe, that he was sure death had overcome him. Maybe she was the bright light he was supposed to see.

He weakly raised his hand to the side of her face, rasping, "Am... Am I dead?"

Y/N looked too shocked to respond. As Sam touched her skin, she broke down and let out a sob, covering her mouth with one hand.

Sam was confused as to why _his_ version of Y/N would be crying. He had always remembered her as happy and bright. "What's wrong?"

She sobbed louder, taking Sam's hand and kissing it gently, closing her eyes.

If he was dead, how could he feel her touch?

He was about to ask what was going on or why she was crying, when she whispered, "You're not dead, Sam."

She opened her eyes, looking over Sam's injures. Sam's mouth was hanging open in confusion and awe, still struck by how gorgeous she was. She carefully rested her hands on the sides of Sam's face, sobbing once more.

"Did... Did I do this to you?"

His mind was still foggy, so it took him a while to respond. "You weren't _you_..."

She bit her lip. "But I was-"

"You weren't," Sam interrupted. "You were possessed."

"Sam..." she smoothed back his hair so gently that Sam closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I wasn't... I'm not possessed."

"What?" Sam's eyes were open again. "But the angel grace... Wings... How..."

Suddenly, Sam heard a deep, raspy voice coming from behind Y/N. She heard it too, because her eyes widened and she stiffened up.

"I'm glad you _lovebirds_ got to have a little chat, but it's time we got back to work." Crowley emerged from the darkness, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Remember what they did to you. What _he_ did to you."

Sam stared in disbelief as Y/N's eyes glazed over, her body becoming slack.

"No," Sam choked. "No-"

Before he could blink, Y/N eyes lit up with white light.

"Stop it, Y/N," Sam kept pleading. He turned to Crowley. "Let her go! Make it stop!"

Crowley smiled slyly in return. "Moose... I can make her stop. But it's going to cost you."

Y/N narrowed her eyes and pushed her hand against Sam's forehead like before.

"What! What do you want!?" Sam panicked.

Crowley squeezed Y/N's shoulder and she stopped. He then looked at Sam with a set jaw.

"I get Y/N. You will stop looking for her," he snarled. "Come after me, I don't care. But if you ever try to make contact with her, ever again, I will have her _end_ you. There will be no second chances." The demon paused. "Despite what you may think, I'd like you alive. The bunker holds some valuable resources, and you are the only ones who can get inside. But, I can always find a way." He leaned down, closer to Sam. "Are we clear?"

Sam shook his head, yelling, "Why do you care about her? Why are you doing this?"

Crowley smirked. "Oh, Moose. There is so much you will _never_ know. Now, do we have a deal or not?"

Sam felt wetness gathering in his eyes. He wasn't about to give Y/N up, but if he said no, he would be dead, and then he wouldn't be able to do _anything_.

He gradually nodded his head, a tear slipping down his face. "Fine. It's a dea-"

Instantly, just as Sam's words left his mouth, Y/N whipped to the side and shoved Crowley, the force of her powers throwing Crowley across the room. The demon shouted as Sam gasped.

Y/N jumped up and stormed toward Crowley, pinning him against another wall. Crowley started to plead.

"Easy, Y/N. It's me!"

She lifted him up and slapped him across the face. "You bastard," she growled. "I'm giving you _three_ seconds to smoke out of here, or I'm going to grill you alive."

"I _own_ you!" Crowley shouted. "You belong to _me_!"

"I don't belong to _anyone_."

Sam shifted so he could see what she was doing. His vision was failing, as if his body only wanted him to stay conscious when he was about to die. But, for the moment, he could see them fighting.

"One."

"You little-"

" _Two_."

Crowley was gone before she could say three, taking his vessel with him. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, crashing to the ground as the splotches of black returned in his vision. He started to drift away.

"Sam!"

Y/N was at his side again, looking like she had before. She could see him.

"Y/N," he rasped. "Tell me what's going on. What are you? Are you possessed? Are you-"

"Shh," she insisted, holding his hand. Her hand was small and warm, and the gesture made Sam feel secure. "Does it matter? You need rest."

"I _need_ to know," he strained. "Are you... Are you an angel?"

"No," Y/N responded, half giggling at how curious Sam was. "And I'm not possessed either."

"Is it a spell? What did Crowley do to you? Where you like this before? How come-"

"Sam," she hushed him, holding the side of his face. "I'll tell you everything when you're better."

"Y/N, please, I need to know." Sam smiled weakly at her. "I'll still love you, no matter what's going on inside you. I promise."

Y/N snorted slyly, raising a brow. "I don't really trust your 'promises' anymore, Sam."

"Okay," Sam laughed, which was more like a wheeze. "That's fair."

For a moment it was quiet, as Sam looked over Y/N's face.

"Tell me," he spoke up, only a whisper. "Are you-"

Y/N put a finger to Sam's lips to shut him up. He waited expectantly.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Sam nodded. "Positive."

Y/N looked away for a long time, thinking, before she eventually met Sam's eyes.

"I'm a nephilim, Sam."


	15. Chapter 15: Healed

**Chapter Fifteen: Healed**

 _Sam pov_

Sam's world came crashing down around him as Y/N uttered the most unexpected words.

" _I'm a nephilim, Sam."_

Everything suddenly made sense, as well as no sense at all. She couldn't be a nephilim. Sam would've known. He would've seen her power, or feel her holy presence. She would've known as well. Did she have no idea, or did she just not tell Sam? Was she worried he would hurt her?

It took him a long time to finally choke out, "You're not. You can't be."

Y/N bit her lip, and he could tell she was studying his face as he tried to figure out what was going on. Maybe he _was_ dead...

Slowly, Y/N raised her fingers to Sam's forehead. He panicked at first, but let her gently press them against his skin. He felt a rush of pressure that lasted for only a moment, leaving him healed. He knew the feeling; he had been healed many times before.

"Did you just... How did you know how to do that?"

Y/N let out a weak sigh. "I've never done it before. I was honestly praying it would heal you and not blow you to pieces."

"So," Sam paused, still laying flat on the ground with Y/N above him, "you're a nephilim...?"

"Yes," she chuckled softly, almost embarrassed.

Sam narrowed his eyes, his head spinning. "How?"

She shook her head, looking at something far away. "Crowley, um... He explained it to me."

Sam noticed how disturbing the subject was for her. He couldn't imagine having to explain it, especially because she learned it from her captor. He waited for her to continue.

"I was born a nephilim, evidently... That's why my parents aren't around. My mother died in childbirth, as all mothers of nephilim do... And my father is in the wind." She took a breath, and Sam realized he had been holding his too. "That's why Crowley kidnapped me the first time. He knew what I was, even though you, Dean, and I didn't."

Sam remembered leaving her at the bus station and felt a pang of guilt. He already hated himself for letting her be captured by Crowley, but now he knew why the demon chose her.

"Remember all those nightmares I told you about?" She asks. "The ones where... Crowley... He slits my throat?"

Sam nodded slowly, raising slightly up on his elbows.

"He was... He was taking my grace. Saving it. That's why I was so weak when you rescued me."

Sam tilted his head, urging her to continue, even though he still didn't understand. Maybe more information would satisfy his confusion.

"Crowley has become _sick_ of you and Dean thinking that you're more powerful than he is. He took my grace so that i'd be weak, and so you'd take me in the second time without even questioning it. It was never meant to be permanent. You were... supposed to 'grow affection' for me." She swallows hard. "I know that now."

Sam shook his head, disbelieving. "So you knew all of this? All along?"

"No," she retorts. "Not until he captured me again, that day in the rain. And that day... He was playing with my mind, Sam. I thought I wanted to go back to him. I never wanted to leave you."

Sam was rendered speechless, only listening from there on out. He couldn't think enough to even form words.

"He returned my grace and explained it all to me. And with my power... I was going to kill him, Sam, I swear. I never wanted to be his pet." She took a deep breath. "He messed with my mind again when he realized I had become affectionate for you, too. All the torture he made me endure... He convinced me that you and Dean inflicted it on me. That's why I was going to kill you." She pauses, speaking softer, as if she was confused by her own words. "I was going to kill you..."

"You didn't," Sam interrupted as he saw her slipping away into a dark place. "Why?"

Y/N's eyes slowly settled on Sam, making his stomach flip for some reason. Maybe it was her sparkling eyes or how close in proximity she was to him...

She was still concerned, as if she didn't believe what she was saying, but she managed to stammer, "Be... Because you said... You said that you loved me."

Sam let his eyes travel up and down her body, despite how obvious it was to her. His face flushed red, his stomach flipped even more, and his heart started to race. They were definitely close, closer than they had ever been; that is, expect for the times he had hugged or carried her. And, as soon as she uttered the words to him, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

He slowly lifted his eyes to hers and breathed, "I do."

She furrowed her brows in confusion, just as Sam had done when he learned Y/N was a nephilim. She couldn't understand or believe it.

"It's not just your appearance," Sam blurted suddenly, flustered. "Although, believe me, you're gorgeous." Y/N flushed a deep shade of red as she blinked at him in shock. "You're funny, and smart, and strong, and kind, and... Something about you just drives me crazy. I've never met anyone like you." At that point, Y/N looked at the floor. Sam worried he had done something wrong. "I don't want you to just think I'm saying it to say it, is all. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

She glanced back up at him. "You didn't... I'm not..." She paused, taking a breath. "I know what you mean."

Sam smiled in relief. "Good. Because I'm not done." Was it possible for Y/N to get more red than she already was? It sure seemed like it when he piped up again. "It's you, it's every little thing about you... It's all I can think about. I know what it's like to lose you, and let me tell you right now, it's not happening again." He paused, heart pounding. "I don't know if it's obvious, so I'll reiterate. I am hopelessly, completely and totally, in love with you."

Y/N's shock melted into joy, her mouth turning up into a smile. She was nodding her head, her eyes welling, trying to convey that she felt the same way. Sam felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders to know that it was mutual, mainly because he just laid all of his feelings out for her.

His smile grew wider at how happy she was, watching her laugh and cry with glee. He couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful she was.

Sam took to opportunity to slowly lift himself up by his forearms, closing the gap between them. Before he could blink, they were nose to nose, their smiles fading into serious expressions. He looked into her eyes and then at her lips, her warm breath against his skin.

After a few moments - which to him seemed like forever - he finally closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers, a rush traveling throughout his body. Sam wondered why he hadn't found the courage to do it sooner. But now he had her, and he wasn't planning to let her go.

 _Dean pov_

Ringing sounded in Dean's ears as he managed to open his groggy eyes. _Where am I?_ He had been thrown pretty hard into the wall, and as he gingerly touched the back of his head, he felt blood. "Son of a bitch..." Despite the damage, he doubted there was a concussion, as he could think straight. That was usually a good sign. As he tried to sit up, pain shot through his arm, and he remembered being hurled down on it, most likely dislocating it. He composed himself and leaned up against the wall, breathing heavily as the memories flooded back. Y/N. Sam.

Dean panicked, looking around the room. Did Y/N kill Sam already? What had happened?

Momentarily, his stomach dropped, because he spotted Y/N reaching down to Sam. He was sure she was going to smite him. Before he could call out, however, she pulled away, and Sam took a breath. Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion.

The pair started talking, and Dean tried to make out the conversation. Y/N looked concerned, rather than menacing like she had when she threw Dean across the room. He was shocked and confused, but if Sam was okay, then Dean was too. Besides, he was too weak to call out to his brother. He simply watched the exchange, Y/N looking more and more vulnerable by the minute.

Suddenly, Sam was saying something that made Y/N shyly tilt her head. Dean wondered what could possibly make her that way. Was Sam scolding her?

Dean's eyes became foggy and blotchy for a moment, and he had to rub them with his hand. Not a good sign. When he opened his eyes again, Y/N and Sam were much closer. Dean's eyes widened.

"Do it," Dean whispered, watching Sam sit up even more. "C'mon Sammy..."

As if on command, Sam leaned in, and Dean smiled with delight. "That's my boy!" He watched the brother wrap an arm around Y/N, pulling her closer as they kissed. Dean was proud that his brother had done what he had been scared to do for so long.

It was strange for Dean to be cheering him on. Dean had never really approved of Sam's relationships in the past, especially Ruby, but this felt different. Dean liked Y/N, and Dean liked seeing how happy Sam was with her. It was a win-win.

As Sam pulled away, he grinned, which made Dean grin even more. At this point, he didn't care if his brother came and got him. He was happy. Nonetheless, Sam suddenly realized, and turned toward Dean.

"Dean!" he jumped up and sprinted over, Y/N right behind him.

"And here we have the new flame," Dean chuckled as Sam crouched at his side. "Going steady now, are we?"

Y/N smiled, seeing Dean hadn't been _too_ badly hurt. Sam groaned, "Shut up, dude. Are you hurt?"

"And confused," Dean admitted. "Why isn't she trying to kill us?"

"I'll explain later," Y/N responded, stepping forward. Dean felt a little bad - he could tell Y/N felt horrible for banging him up - and he just made a joke of it. "What's hurting?"

"Shoulder," Dean grunted, sitting up straighter. "And head. I think we-"

Before he could finish, Y/N had touched his head. His body stiffened briefly, healing, and then relaxed. It felt just like the way Cas healed him all the time.

"Holy," Dean exclaimed. "How...? What-"

"Later," Y/N responded again, standing. She stuck out her hand for him to grab, and pulled him up.

"Whoa, you're strong too? Since when-"

"Later," Sam and Y/N said in unison. Dean smirked as Sam looked around, adding, "It's not safe here."

"Fine, fine." Dean grabbed the angel blade from the floor. "But once we're safe, you're telling me what's going on." He paused, pointing to Y/N. "And you're getting a big hug."


	16. Chapter 16: Normal

**Chapter Sixteen: Normal**

 **Four Months Later**

 _Reader pov_

The smell of hash browns and eggs pulls you from your deep sleep. You roll over, glancing at the clock on your nightstand, which reads, 9:00 a.m.. Groggily, you sit up, pushing off the soft covers and sliding out of your bed.

Your mind starts to wake up, the sleepiness replaced by a feeling of good rest, as you pull on some flannel pants and tie up your hair into a messy bun. You used to care what you looked like in the morning around Sam and Dean, but you've become more comfortable.

You open your door and make your way toward the wonderful smell, which keeps growing stronger. Gradually, you can start to hear Sam and Dean's voices grow louder. They must be awake.

As you enter the kitchen, Sam and Dean turn to greet you with their messy hair and sleepy smiles.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean calls, turning to face the frying pan again.

Sam is seated at the table, so you wander over to him, sitting at his side. He greets you with a kiss on the head and takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"How did you sleep?" he asks loud enough for Dean to hear. His morning voice is rough and attractive, making you blush.

You feel a little guilty, but you refuse to share a bed with Sam because you fear he won't get any rest. You have still have trouble sleeping after all you went through.

"I had an incredible night," you beam, looking up into Sam's big and beautiful hazel eyes. "It was rough, on and off, but I think I got about four hours, and I didn't even have any nightmares!"

Sam grins. "That's a start. I'm happy for you."

Dean approaches the table, setting three plates down. "Four? Is that a record?"

"I think so," you cheer, pulling the plate toward you.

Dean smiles. "You're getting better, Y/N. You'll be back to normal in no time."

The comment makes you smile, but it also makes you think. You don't even know what normal _**is**_ anymore. Normal used to mean going out to lunch with your best friend, Vicky, walking to the 7/11 at midnight because you had a sudden craving, skipping rocks on the lake. Who knew you'd end up where you are.

Four months ago, Sam and Dean had taken you home after they rescued you for the second time. You have never felt more at home. Dean pestered you for a while, making sure you were comfortable and felt safe, but he never restricted you. If you wanted to go for a walk, he'd let you leave, but you had to take a buddy; usually Sam, although Dean would offer to go sometimes. He cooked for you, surprisingly, and even did your laundry without being asked. He simply wanted to help you in every way possible.

Sam has been by your side since he found you again. He listens to you, offers advice, and is always there as a shoulder to cry on. He tries to hug you as much as possible - "Oxytocin!" he says. "Hugs make everything better." - and never pressures you to step out of your safety circle. He understands the pain you've gone through, and tries to move at your pace, praising every little accomplishment. Whenever Dean turns his back, Sam steals a kiss, always putting a smile on your face. He makes sure you know how much he loves you whenever times get tough.

That's why you feel guilty. You want to let him sleep with you, because all he wants to do is cuddle and protect you, but you want him to feel rested too. His health is more important than that.

You reach over and steal a bite of Dean's eggs, while he protests jokingly; "Hey! Eat your own!"

Was it really only two years ago that you saw a '67 Chevy Impala drive by your house? That was the beginning of the end of your "normal" life. You met Sam and Dean in the worst way possible; Dean shot your best friend, who turned out to be a demon, and Sam convinced you to kill her. You had to run away with these men you resented, suddenly fearing a whole new world of monsters and beasts. Somehow, they got on your good side, and you came to like them as they shipped you off a bus. They promised you'd be safe. Instead, you were captured by a demon who stole your grace and tortured you for an entire year - to you, it feels like more - only to return you back to the safety of the Winchesters. You were angry that they lied to you about "safety," but you forgave them, a false sense of protection coming over you. Your mind was scrambled, and you were taken away once more, only to show back up as a Winchester attack dog. And you nearly ended their lives too, if Sam hadn't saved you. All the pain, suffering, joy, hope, love, and fear of the past two years seems like it should've been acquired in a lifetime.

Somehow, you were horribly unlucky, and still feel like the luckiest person in the entire world. It's going to take time to heal your wounds and move on, but progress is coming at a steady pace. You have a loyal "older brother" and a loving significant other to get you through. Every joke, kiss, and smile makes you feel like the world might be a good place after all, despite all its faults.

Suddenly, there is a whoosh sound behind you, and a deep voice says, "Hello."

You instantly know who it is, and you jump up, running over to him. "Cas!" The last time you saw him was four months ago, when Dean broke the news to him that you were a nephilim. Since then, he had tried to visit, but was caught up in trying to find your biological father; an angel, obviously. You give him a big hug, and he hugs you back.

"I apologize for not coming sooner," he says, ashamed. "I have missed you, Y/N."

"Aw," you gush. "Did you hear my prayers?"

Cas pulls away and nods. "I did. Could you hear my responses?"

"I did! It was weird at first, I have to admit..." You smile, looking back in his clear blue eyes. "That reminds me... Did you find him?"

Cas groans. "Your birth father has been impossible to locate, unfortunately."

"That's okay," you shrug. "Thanks for trying, at least."

Cas flashes you a weak smile before glancing over at Dean and Sam. "I need to borrow Y/N for a moment."

"Sure," Dean replies from behind you. "Take your time."

You follow the angel into the hallway as his trenchcoat waves behind him, making him look even more valiant. All the while, you try to imagine what he wants to talk to you about. Did he find Crowley, who has been in hiding for the past months? Did he _actually_ find your father, but doesn't want to say in front of Sam and Dean? It's then that Cas faces you, stoic as ever.

"Have you been practicing with your power?"

 _Not what I was expecting_ , you think. "Not really... Why? Should I be?"

Cas narrows his eyes. "You are powerful, Y/N. With great power-"

"Comes great responsibility," you interrupt. "Heard it before."

"It's true. You need to protect yourself and the ones you love, but you can't do that if you're reckless or ignorant."

You shake your head. "Cas, I'm trying to move on, okay? I don't want to be... What I am. And as long as I don't use my power, I can-"

"Pretend you're not who you are?" Cas interjects. "We have _all_ tried to do that, Y/N. Dean, Sam, and myself. It is impossible."

You simply stare at Cas, wordless, dreading what he has to say next.

"I can help you," he continues. "I know you don't want to use your powers. But sometimes, the people we love have to come first. And I know it doesn't seem like it, but Sam and Dean are quite vulnerable at times. I can't always be here to rescue them, but _you_ can. However, you can't do _anything_ if you don't know how."

"I know how," you insist.

Cas raises a brow. "You mean, catapulting Dean into a wall and nearly smiting Sam? You were sent by Crowley to destroy and kill, not to keep them safe. You were reckless and unprepared."

Normally, you'd be hurt that he thinks you're irresponsible, but it doesn't seem to phase you. You know he's right.

You take a deep breath, thinking, before you nod. "Okay."

"You'll do it?" Cas asks for reassurance.

"Yes," you mumble. "But we're going to learn at _my_ pace. Got it? I'm just starting to get back on my feet."

"Of course," Cas replies, shifting awkwardly as he tries to determine what exactly that means.

You smile and shake your head. "Don't worry about it. I'll..." You point to your head. "...Talk to you with my mind or whatever."

"It is called Angel Radio," Cas corrects.

"Right."

The dark haired boy smiles at you, and you nod, uttering, "See you around, Cas."

With a flutter of wings, he is gone, and you saunter back into the kitchen. Sam and Dean are mid conversation, Dean speaking with his mouth full of food. They don't even notice you entering.

"Chew before you start talking again," Sam groans.

"Mmm-" Dean swallows hard before trying again. "So this waitress gives me back the receipt, but she doesn't even answer my question! I mean, how could she _not_ want to come home with me?"

"Not everyone is into you, Dean," Sam replies snarkily.

"Sam, I am gorgeous. Everyone is into me."

"Sure..." Sam mumbles, taking a bite of food.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I confront her again, just in case she didn't hear. I said, 'Hey, beautiful. How about you and I get outta here?'"

"That never works, dude," Sam interjects quietly.

"Well, obviously!" Dean retorts. "But she looked like a chick who would dig that." He looked down, as if he was reliving the moment. "Anyway, she says to me, she says, 'Are you lost, sweetie? Where's your mom?'"

Sam nearly choked on his food as he tried not to laugh, but Dean kept talking.

"Can you _believe_ that? She knew I was her age. She was just ignoring our _blatant_ chemistry. I mean, I'm hot, _she's_ hot. It was meant to be."

"Wow," you say sarcastically, finally sitting at Sam's side. "Totally meant to be."

Sam wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. "You'll find the right one," he hums. "I know I have."

"Shut up," you gush, resisting the hug playfully. Sam leans down and pecks you on the cheek, and you groan. "Ew..."

"Definitely the one," Dean grins mockingly. "Look at her. She's _so_ into you."

"You got me," Sam grunts in reply.

You squeeze Sam's hand in apology under the table, and he smiles, not looking over at you.

Life in general is going to be tough. It wasn't like you could just forget all that had happened, and it wasn't going to fade away any time soon. But you are surrounded by love. Cas has vowed to guide you in everything you do, and if that isn't loyalty, you don't know what is. Dean has pledged to make you smile, no matter how hard it may be. Finally, Sam has promised to love you unconditionally. All around you are lifelines, raising you out of your dark past. In time, scars with heal, memories will weaken, and you will find a way to be "normal" in this new life.

Suddenly, Dean's phone rings and you jump, snapping your of your daze. The hunter sets down his fork and lifts the phone to his ear, clearing his throat. "Yeah?" He pauses, listening, before he makes eye contact with you. "Yes, it's him. Mmhm. What? Shifters, you say?" He looks to Sam, nodding. "Sure thing. We'll be there tomorrow morning."

At last, Dean tosses the phone down and leans in, grinning. "Wanna go hunt some shifters?"

You and Sam exchange a glance, Sam's hazel eyes wide with excitement. You can tell he really wants to get back in the swing of things, but he wants to make sure you're okay with it too. He raises a brow, as if to ask you, _You want to do this?_

"Definitely."


End file.
